


Chasing After You Like Some Bitch

by stubliminalmessaging



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Reunion Sex, Rimming, dicks get grabbed in ch 7, gets a little matureish in chapter five, ian has a fantasy lol, implied blowjob in chapter two, road trip au, shit gets explicit in chapter 8, the one where they go to rescue ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1330945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubliminalmessaging/pseuds/stubliminalmessaging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obligatory road trip AU. Debbie is the only Gallagher who gives a shit about Ian and with Mandy's help they road trip to go rescue him. Of course Mandy thinks Mickey should come along - for protection, you understand, no other reason. Definitely not because Mandy ships them together hard. Not at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Game is Afoot

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this beautiful post](http://themilkoviches.tumblr.com/post/74357132525/shameless-au-debbie-tired-of-waiting-for-someone)
> 
> rated t for now but i guarantee the rating will go up
> 
> affectionately titled 'road trippin with my two fave allies'

                Debbie had tried. She’d really tried. She’d tried to talk to Fiona first, but with work and her boyfriend and all her other stuff she hadn’t paid much attention. Next she’d moved on to Lip, but when she called he sounded so busy and so stressed out and she would have felt bad for adding more to his plate so she just chatted with him about her new friends and school. He laughed when she talked about Holly and he warned her not to take anything she says too seriously. Their conversation was the same as usual, which was a comfort, she supposed. When she hung up she’d felt better but still hadn’t solved her Ian problem. Carl and Liam were too young and Frank was dying or something; completely useless.

 

                She’d even asked Matty, but he had been hesitant, and then his boss had gotten on his back and he’d been unable to get the time off work. She spent almost a day racking her brains for anyone else she could ask when she remembered _friends_! Ian had friends, right? She went through all of the stuff in Ian’s room to try and find any contact information for _anyone_.

 

                She really didn’t want to, but after days of trying to find any other person to contact and coming up with absolutely nothing, she decided to contact her last-resort person. That was how she ended up texting Mandy Milkovich asking; _have you heard from ian?_

 

-

 

                Turns out Mandy was the perfect person to ask. She had been in contact with him, generally knew where he was, and when Debbie tentatively asked if she would go with her to find him and bring him back, she was on board from the start.

 

                Debbie had been ready to go then, and maybe a bit excited about going on a road trip with Mandy, who was so cool and pretty. But when she’d asked when they were leaving, Mandy had suggested something she hadn’t been expecting.

 

                “We have to convince Mickey to come with us,” she said. They sat on the step at Mandy’s place while Mandy smoked. Debbie fidgeted and picked at her nails, but she looked up when Mandy said that.

 

                “What? Why?” she asked.

 

                Mandy shrugged one shoulder and let out a breath of smoke. “He worked with Ian so I guess they’d be friends.”

 

                “Really? Did they hang out?”

 

                “Yeah, a bit. We’d be able to get there faster if we could take turns driving too,” Mandy offered. Debbie thought about it a bit, and the more she thought about it the more it made sense. After all, outside of Chicago who’s gonna take two hood girls seriously?

 

                “I guess we might need a guy for some things,” Debbie said. “To defend us if we meet any sketchy people.”

 

                “Sure,” Mandy said, though she really doubted that Mickey was any more intimidating than she was. But, she supposed, sexism still existed in the world so Debbie sort of had a point. The idea of Mickey defending them nearly made her laugh, though. He didn’t protect anyone besides himself.

 

-

 

                “Fuck no,” Mickey said when Mandy told him what she doing and said he should come. She threw an empty beer can at him and he ducked. “He’s not my fuckin’ problem!”

 

                “You’re the reason he left,” Mandy said, successfully silencing him. “You drove him out, come bring him back.”

 

                “If he wanted to see me he’d have come to me,” Mickey said. “So fuck off.”

 

                Mandy didn’t make a move to leave the room so Mickey did instead, huffing loudly and pulling on his coat to go to the Alibi. Mandy watched him leave and texted Deb, telling her what happened. Deb didn’t seem concerned, just asked where he’d gone, and Mandy smirked. Pestering Mickey was the way to get what they wanted from him. He had a short patience for people bugging him, so Mandy predicted he’d be on board by the next day.

 

-

 

                It was a damn good thing that Kev owned the Alibi because Debbie probably wouldn’t be able to waltz into any other bar. She found Mickey easily, sitting at the end of the bar closest to the staircase. She climbed upon the stool next to him and as soon as he saw her he slid off his and shrugged his sweater on.

 

                “Oh, hell no. I’m not letting myself sit here while some fuckin’ ginger fawn makes shiny eyes at me about thus fuckin’ rescue mission,” Mickey grumbled. He slammed a couple bills down on the bartop and headed for the door. “Can’t even do my fuckin’ job without some bitch buggin’ me.”

 

                Debbie hopped off her stool and followed him. “Please, just listen. We just need you to drive! Didn’t you used to work with Ian?”

 

                “Used to. He chose to fuckin’ leave,” Mickey shouldered open the door to the bar and stormed off down the alley.

 

                “Weren’t you his friend?” Debbie asked, right on his heels. He had to give it to her; she was damn determined. Probably because she actually gave a shit.

 

                “Was. Keyword,” he turned out onto the street and jammed his hands deep in his hoodie pockets as something to do with them. A minute later he was occupying them by lighting a smoke.

 

                He got all the way home and took a seat on his step to finish his smoke. He stubbed the butt out on the step next to where he sat and flicked it into his yard. The young Gallagher girl was still standing there on the sidewalk looking earnest in a way that reminded him too much of her brother.

 

                “Fuck. So I can’t go to work ‘cause you’ll be there and I can’t be at home ‘cause fuckin’ Mandy will get on my ass,” Mickey observed. “Better off just runnin’ away. Pull an Ian and just fuckin’ split,” he looked up at Debbie, scoffing and spitting the taste of smoke out. “Would anyone come lookin’ for me? Bet Ian wouldn’t.”

 

                Debbie didn’t say anything, just watched as Mickey got up and went inside his house, slamming the door. When he tried to fall asleep that night he couldn’t get Debbie’s hurt, worried-looking eyes out of his mind and Mandy telling him he was the reason Ian had left. As much as he tried not to feel anything, his stupid brain and his traitorous heart cycled guilt through him like a poison.

 

-

 

                Mandy woke up at four in the morning because she needed to piss and she ended up just staying up watching TV on the couch. She found a bong belonging to one of her brothers sitting next to the couch that still had some weed left in the bowl so she lit it up and blazed out the last of it. She was about to get up and get more when she heard a door slam from somewhere else in the house and a moment later Mickey wandered into the room.

 

                He looked at the TV for a second then passed through to the kitchen, getting a beer from the fridge and bringing it back to the couch where he took a seat. Mandy wished he would bring her some more weed so she wouldn’t have to get up.

 

                There was some dumb movie on TV which they watched for a bit, before Mandy felt her high edging away so she asked; “Got any weed, dickhead?”

 

                Mickey looked around for a second before he spotted a dented cigarette case on the table – not his so probably one of their brothers’. He snatched it off the table and found a couple of joints in it. He lit one up and took a pull, then passed it off to Mandy. She was greedy with it, took deep breaths of it and more than one toke in a row. Mickey didn’t seem terribly concerned; it wasn’t his anyways.

 

                Mandy settled back into her high, watching the TV with vague interest and some degree of hunger. What she wouldn’t do for a huge plate of French fries right now...

 

                “I’ll do it,” Mickey said, pretty suddenly.

 

                “Do what?” Mandy yawned, shifting on the couch to lean against the arm of it. She bent her legs and tucked them under herself. “What’re you doing?”

 

                “Don’t make me say it, asswipe,” he got up from the couch and fidgeted, cracking his knuckles one by one. “Be ready to go at like three. I’ll find a car and meet you in the driveway then. Make sure the kid packs light; we’re not goin’ on a fuckin’ vacation and I don’t wanna have to drag her shit around.”

 

                Mandy sobered up fairly quickly when she realized what he’d been talking about. She curled up on the couch, yawning. “Alright. Three. Got it.”

 

                Mickey went back to his own room without another word, leaving Mandy with the other joint and his half-empty beer. He threw himself into bed and tried to fall asleep but only drifted in and out, woken frequently by half-formed images of pale skin and freckles, red hair sliding between his fingers. Every time he woke up it was in a panic as his unconscious imagination conjured some new kind of trouble for Ian to be in when they found him. It had been this that had finally convinced him that he needed to do this; to see Ian and make sure he was unharmed. It was hard to pretend he didn’t care when his chest ached and he felt sick at the thought of Ian.


	2. Chapter 2

It was silly for Mickey to think that Debbie might overpack. The Gallaghers were at least as poor as his family; she didn’t really have any extra stuff to overpack. She just packed a week’s worth of clothes and a couple books and her phone and mp3 player and stuff. She didn’t pack as light as Mickey, but considering he didn’t bring any spare pants aside from the ones he was wearing, that wasn’t really a surprise.

 

                True to the word, Mickey managed to call in a couple favours to get a car that was surprisingly decent. He gassed up and waited in the driveway for his two passengers.

 

                Debbie Gallagher was nothing if not precise and punctual. She was there with her dufflebag and backpack at exactly three o’clock on the dot. She walked around to the driver’s side and Mickey tossed her the keys to unlock the trunk and put her stuff in.

 

                She hopped up the steps after slamming the trunk shut and dropping the keys back in Mickey’s lap, presumably to get Mandy. A few minutes later (too many, in Mickey’s opinion), the pair descended the steps. When she got close enough Mickey threw the keys at Mandy’s face and was only a little disappointed when he missed and she bent down to grab them off the ground. She tossed her stuff in the trunk and tried to get Mickey to let her drive.

 

                “Fuck off,” he snorted. “Get in or get left behind.”

 

                “Alright,” she laughed, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling up. Mickey backed out of their driveway and they were off.

 

-

 

                They managed to get three hours out of Chicago without anything going wrong. Mickey was chain-smoking and driving, Mandy was napping, and Debbie was reading and listening to her music. Mickey only snapped once; and that had been when Debbie started asking about Ian.

 

                “So you were friends with Ian,” Debbie observed. Mandy was clearly passed out and snoring softly so Debbie could only be talking to him. He scratched his jaw.

 

                “Yeah,” Mickey replied. She bounced her leg and he knew more was coming. He grit his teeth.

 

                “I never heard him talk about you,” she said. “And you never came over to visit him.”

 

                “I’m not really a ‘come over and visit’ kind of guy,” Mickey scowled. Ian never asked him to come over. It was for the better; all they did was fuck and it would be asking to get caught to try and fuck in the Gallagher house. They were either discrete at Mickey’s place or less reserved in one of their secret fuck spots; the abandoned building, the baseball diamond, or the back room of the store.

 

                “So you got close at work,” Debbie decided.

 

                “Sure,” Mickey said, thinking _if you’d say having his dick up my ass makes us close_.

 

                “He’s gay, you know,” Debbie offered. She looked at Mickey in the rearview mirror and he looked away. “Do you know if he has a boyfriend?”

 

                “How the fuck should I know?” Mickey growled. “I’m not his fuckin’ keeper.”

 

                “Okay, sorry,” Debbie huffed, put off by Mickey’s grumpiness. She found it hard to believe they’d been friends if he wasn’t worried about him enough to want to talk about him. “Are you-“

 

                “Stop. Not another fuckin’ word,” Mickey snapped. “I don’t do the ‘chit chat’ thing. Go to sleep or somethin’.”

 

                Debbie looked like she was going to keep pushing but Mickey just turned the radio up a bit. Debbie crossed her arms and sulked a bit but before too long she was curled up against the car door using Mandy’s hoodie as a blanket.

 

-

 

                They kept to their schedule surprisingly well until the inevitable happened: the car turned out to be shit besides looking newish and broke down on them. Mickey knew a little bit about cars but not enough to fix whatever was wrong with this one so he only puttered around under the hood for a few minutes before he gave up. Fortunately they were practically in sight of a gas station so they took turns pushing and driving.

 

                It took them half an hour to roll the car up to the garage part of the rest stop. Mickey leaned against the hood and had a smoke while Mandy and Debbie went in to find a mechanic.

 

                They came back out with a big burly guy – tall, bearded, and buff. They knew right away that they didn’t want to pay for the repairs, so Mandy turned on the charm right away. Mickey scoffed and moved off the hood as Mandy twirled her hair and giggled and cocked her hips. As Mickey walked away the mechanic lifted the hood and started investigating the car’s innards, while Mandy leaned against the driver’s side door. Mickey wandered into the convenience store just as something to do other than watching Mandy shake her tits in the fucker’s face.

 

                Mickey dicked around in the store, pocketing a couple things, until Mandy and Debbie came back inside. Mandy’s expression was stormy so Mickey assumed that her strategy hadn’t worked out like she’d hoped. She had to remember they weren’t still in the South Side and maybe people weren’t as disgusting or something.

 

                “We gotta come up with a Plan B,” Mandy said.

 

                “We could pay for the repairs?” Debbie suggested and Mickey snorted. The Gallaghers were all so fucking _good_.

 

                “Nah. Last resort,” Mandy said, but Mickey had a feeling it would be their only resort. He went outside for another smoke, taking another look under the hood of the car. The mechanic strode over and lit his own smoke, joining Mickey as he looked the car over. Mandy and Debbie came outside and sat on the bench that was near the door to the garage. They ate stolen chocolate bars and Debbie distracted herself with her phone while Mandy watched Mickey.

 

                She realized after a moment that she should be watching the mechanic. Mickey was the same as always, looking grumpy and giving monosyllabic answers as the mechanic pushed conversation on him. He gestured with his cigarette, trying to be light-hearted and funny and maybe coax a laugh or a smile out of Mickey. The way he stared at Mickey whenever he thought he couldn’t see was with undeniable interest and Mandy formed a new plan.

 

                She caught Mickey’s eye and beckoned him over, pulling him off down the side of the garage to be out of earshot.

 

                “The mechanic wants you,” Mandy said by way of introduction. “Plan B is you flirt with him until he gives in.”

 

                “Fuck no,” Mickey said, turning to storm off. “I don’t do flirting.”

 

                “It’s easy. Just make everything an innuendo and touch your mouth a lot. Ian said that always turned him on.”

 

                “I’m not gonna – _what_?”

 

                Mandy shrugged. “I didn’t know it was you but Ian talked a lot about the mystery guy he’d been fucking. He said you were cocky and hot when you made innuendoes and when you touched your mouth it make him want to fuck it.”

 

                Mickey turned away again and maybe flushed. His face felt hot and he hoped he didn’t go red but with a complexion like his it was futile hope. “I never fuckin’ flirted with Gallagher. I didn’t do anything to make him want me.”

 

                “Well, try. The worst thing that can happen is you fuck up and then you’ll just threaten him,” Mandy said, brushing past Mickey and going to sit with Debbie. When Mickey came out from beside the building and approached the car and the mechanic he noted with a degree of spite that Mandy was sitting and watching him.

 

-

 

                Debbie passed Mandy her slushie when she sat down on the bench with her. They watched Mickey stride up to the mechanic and they couldn’t hear what they were saying to each other but Mickey looked grumpy and embarrassed and the mechanic looked coy and pleased.

 

                “What’s Mickey doing?” she asked, squinting and watching as Mickey said something and the mechanic laughed, then Mickey thumbed at his lower lip almost guiltily.

 

                “He’s getting our car fixed,” Mandy replied, and she was smiling and clearly amused by it so Debbie didn’t worry too much about it.

 

                “They’re talking out a deal,” Debbie decided. Mandy bit her lip to keep from laughing. After all, Debbie wasn’t exactly wrong.

 

                “Yeah. Or Mickey’s beating him up. We’ll see,” Mandy said, slurping loudly at her slushie.

 

                They only had to wait a few minutes before Mickey strode back out of the garage. He looked grumpy and impatient and when he got back he grumbled; “He’s gonna fix it.”

 

                “Wow, really?” Debbie exclaimed, grinning.

 

                “Yeah,” Mickey said gruffly, patting down his pockets to find his smokes.

 

                “How did you do it?” Debbie asked and Mickey nearly dropped his lighter.

 

                “Yeah Mick, how’d you do it?” Mandy laughed.

 

                “Found something we have in common,” he said, glaring at Mandy. He finally got his cigarette lit. He smoked it anxiously as the mechanic came out of the garage too. He winked at Mickey who looked like he was torn between wanting to puke and wanting to throttle him. Or both.

 

                Still, he fixed their car while they ate some lunch at the diner attached to the gas station. When they came back out, the car was fixed and the mechanic was nowhere in sight (much to Mickey’s relief) and they got back on the road as soon as Mickey ripped the slip of paper the mechanic had written his number on from under the windshield wiper.

 

                An hour passed before Debbie asked again. She had claimed shotgun since Mandy was driving and she turned and kneeled on the seat so she could talk to Mickey, who was enjoying the cool air blowing over his face through the window.

 

                “How did you get our repairs free, Mickey?” Debbie asked again, leaning against the seat. Mandy looked at Mickey in the rearview mirror and smirked and Mickey swore to piss in her cereal the next chance he got.

 

                “I’m not fuckin’ tellin’ you. It’s guy stuff,” Mickey replied, and the rant he received in response to that was unforeseen and unstoppable. Mandy laughed as Mickey scowled and endured it. Eventually he just mumbled curses and affirmatives until she stopped ranting and as soon as she was quiet he kicked at the back of Mandy’s seat before he curled up against the door and tried to sleep.

 

-

 

                When they arrived outside the gates of the infamous military school they were stopped. Some crew-cut officer or whatever looked down on them from the gate window he was sitting at. He scowled at them. Mandy led the charge while Mickey hung back.

 

                “We’re looking for a student here,” she said, and the guy sneered at her. “Ian Gallagher. Tall redheaded kid.”

 

                The guy looked reluctant to help them, but then he turned to a monitor outside their field of view and did some typing on his keyboard.

 

                “There has never been a student here called Ian Gallagher,” the man said, and when Debbie stammered out in protest he continued. “Only Gallagher we had enrolled in the past year was Phillip Gallagher.”

 

                “Was?” Mandy asked. “As in he doesn’t go here anymore?”

 

                “Correct. Philip went AWOL a little over a month ago,” the man replied. “Is there anything else you need?”

 

                Mandy and Debbie both tried to argue but Mickey tapped Mandy on the shoulder and gave her a significant look. As much as she didn’t want to give up, she understood. She thanked the guy as sarcastically as possible and flipped him off as they went back to their car.

 

-

 

                They drove aimlessly until they found a decent-looking restaurant where they decided to stop for lunch and come up with a backup plan. Mickey found a local map in the newspaper stand by the cash register and spread it out on their table. Debbie took charge right away with a pen and with Mandy’s help started circling local shelters to try and generate some places to try looking.

 

                Pissed off at Ian for wasting his time and bringing him on this fucking trip for no reason, Mickey was even grouchier than usual. When the waiter came by and poured the coffee he was ripping open packets of sweetener and drawing angry little designs in it with his fingertips. He went to take his coffee from where it was being refilled and a second later his fingers were covered in the scalding stuff because this waiter fucked up.

 

                “You wanna fuckin’ die?!” Mickey snarled, ripping his hand away from the coffee cup and balling it into a fist, ready to punch this guy out. What he actually did was freeze.

 

                Mandy looked up from where she was scanning the map and ignoring her brother and her jaw dropped. “Ian...?”


	3. Chapter 3

                Debbie and Mandy both leapt up from their seats when they realized who their waiter was and knocked all their stuff off the table in their hurry to embrace their brother or best friend. Debbie knocked Mickey’s messy coffee mug off the table and into his lap, drawing a curse out of him. He got up from the table and stormed off to the washroom, right past Ian and the two girls who hung off him and babbled questions faster than he could possibly answer.

 

                In the washroom he dried the coffee off his pants – his only pants, of course. A deep part of his mind reminded him that it definitely wasn’t the first time that Firecrotch had made a mess of his pants. He did what he could with paper towels and killed time a bit to avoid going back out there and confronting that old ghost.

 

                He went for the door but didn’t even get to touching the handle before he paced back to the sinks. He’d just retreated back into one of the stalls when the bathroom door slammed open.

 

                “Finish your shit and get out here,” Mandy said, her voice echoing on the tiled walls. “We’re going somewhere else for lunch with Ian. We’ll be out by the car.”

 

                “Fine, whatever, just get the fuck out,” Mickey said, leaning against one of the walls of the little cubicle.

 

                “Five minutes. Don’t be a pussy,” Mandy said, and he heard the door close. He leaned there against the wall for another minute before he went back out into the diner. Their booth was empty and a petite blonde waitress was clearing away their stuff and mopping up the spilled coffee.

 

He strode past her and out of the diner, plucking a smoke from his pack as he went. He’d need like half a dozen to deal with being around Ian again.

 

-

 

                Ian, the bastard, looked really good. Mickey couldn’t help but admire him as he leaned against the backseat driver’s side door. He’d bulked up a bit since Mickey had last seen him, but he was still lean and Mickey felt self conscious in contrast since he’d remained more or less the same. Maybe even a little worse; burnt out and tired since he’d been doing more and more drinking and less and less sleeping in the last few months. Opening the business with Kev distracted him a bit but he still went home to his room in his father’s house full of his wife’s stuff and ended up drinking until he couldn’t think anymore. Ian had definitely won the running-away-from-home-and-getting-gorgeous Olympics.

 

                Mandy was already sitting in the driver’s seat and Debbie had hurried to claim shotgun, leaving Mickey with no choice but to be trapped in the backseat with Ian. And not in the good way.

 

                Ian was comfortably seated on his own side of the car and Mickey had to try not to inch away from him and sit pressed against the door. He liked to act like nothing scared him, but he’d never been more scared of anything than he was of Ian right then. Except for when his father beat him or when his wife took his hand and they said their bullshit vows.

 

                He banished those thoughts and instead smoked in irritable silence.

 

-

 

                They drove to another diner, one that Ian directed them to. ‘The all-day breakfast here is the best,’ he’d said, eyes unnervingly bright. ‘You have to try it!’ and so they went. They climbed out of the car and Mandy took Mickey’s half-finished cigarette and finished it for him, punching him in the shoulder when he flipped her off.

 

                Debbie dragged Ian to sit next to her and Mandy shoved Mickey into the inside corner seat of their booth so she could sit across from Ian. If Ian was even remotely interested in girls (and not related to half of the ones currently fawning over him) he’d probably be the envy of lots of straight guys.

 

                “So we went to your school,” Mandy stated. “You dropped out?”

 

                “You don’t drop out in the army. You go AWOL,” Ian corrected her cheerfully. “Much less legal.”

 

                Mandy snorted. “Good to see you haven’t changed that much.”

 

                “Yeah, the army wasn’t really my thing,” Ian said, then turned his attention to the waitress, who was handing them menus and asking for drink orders, way too chipper for Mickey’s taste. Mickey ordered a coffee in the hopes that he’d finally get a damn cup, and the other three ordered chocolate milkshakes which were frothy and thick and perfect.

 

                “I’m gonna order for you guys!” Ian insisted, taking the menus from Mandy and Debbie and grinning. Mickey held onto his when Ian tried to take it, but Mandy kicked him under the table and gave him a severe look sideways. Leave it to Mickey to make everything a fucking fight when they’d only just gotten Ian back. Mandy knew things were tense between them, but something had to give and for once it had to be Mickey.

 

                “Why do you wanna do that?” Debbie asked, grinning even as she voiced her confusion. “How do you know what we want?”

 

                “’Cause I know you! Well yeah, I haven’t seen you in months but I know what you like,” he was confident and Mickey kind of wanted to hit him because he was probably right.

 

                When their waitress came back she took their menus from Ian and he started, pointing to Debbie. “The breakfast special with ham, brown toast, and scrambled eggs,” he paused for the waitress to scribble it down and beamed at Debbie since she looked so pleased. The waitress waited with her pen poised and Ian moved on. He looked at Mandy. “French toast with extra cinnamon,” he said, and Mandy nodded. He didn’t even look at Mickey when he said, “He wants banana pancakes and I want an egg white omelette with cheese and green peppers.”

 

                Mickey would’ve argued but Ian was completely right. The waitress wrote it all down and said ‘alright, it’ll just be a few minutes’ and they chorused their thanks as she walked off.

 

                “So how was the army when you were doing it?” Mandy asked, slurping at her shake.

 

                “It was okay. But it was hard and my C.O. was a homophobic prick so I got pretty done with that shit quick,” Ian answered. He blew bubbles in his shake. “The only thing I miss is the hot army guys...”

 

                “Could you be any faggier, Ga-“

 

                “So Debs, how’s school?” Ian asked, raising his voice to talk over Mickey and turning to face Debbie directly. Mickey bit his lip and sipped his coffee as if he hadn’t expected Ian to let him speak and respond to his comment. He grimaced and added more sugar to his coffee while Ian and Debbie chatted about school.

 

                “I’ve got a boyfriend now,” Debbie started and the Milkoviches were surprised she’d managed to hold back this long since he was all she’d talked about during the drive there.

 

                “Yeah? Is he cute?” Ian asked, grinning when Debbie looked through her phone and found a selfie she’d taken with Matty. “Damn, Debs! Have to say I’m a little jealous! How old is he?”

 

                “Twenty,” Debbie replied proudly. Mandy winked at her and Mickey rolled his eyes. “He even has a job and a car and his own place.”

 

                “Unlike some people...” Ian said under his breath and Mandy kicked Mickey under the table before he could explode on him. She leveled him with a glare and he settled down. “Anyway, he sounds like a catch,” Ian said, nudging Debbie’s shoulder with his own. “You’re doing better than me. The only time I bag dudes like that is when they’re twice my age and married.”

 

                Debbie and Mandy both giggled at that but Mickey just fiddled with his spoon. It made Mickey jealous and angry and uncomfortable when Ian talked about the old wealthy men he’d slept with which was probably why he kept doing it.

 

                “Have you been with a lot of married guys?” Debbie asked. She’d known about Jimmy/Steve’s dad but she didn’t know he made a habit of hooking up with older guys.

 

                “He’s been with tons, Debbie,” Mandy smirked at Ian. “He’s got something of a type, right Ian?”

 

                Ian nodded. “Yeah, but I think I need to change that. I’m not really into married guys anymore.”

 

                Mickey rolled his eyes and didn’t even bother to comment. He knew Ian was trying to bait him and then completely ignoring him or interrupting him when he tried to argue his side. He wouldn’t respond this time though, since Ian was just being a little bitch about it.

 

                The other three chatted a bit more light-heartedly and Ian kept dropping comments meant to get a rise out of Mickey but he just kept ignoring him. Their food came and Mickey had just started his last pancake (Ian had been right, they were absolutely delicious) when Debbie asked; “Why did you leave?”

 

                Ian only pondered for a moment before he answered. Without looking at Mickey, he replied; “Relationship issues.”

 

                Mickey was up in second, using a napkin to wipe the syrup from his mouth. He dropped it on the table beside his plate then turned and went out into the parking lot, fumbling with his smokes and lighter.

 

-

 

                Mandy found him later sulking in the alleyway beside the diner. He was leaned against the wall, chain-smoking and kicking at the dumpster. She took the cigarette off him while he let out smoke and took a puff for herself.

 

                “You gonna stop acting like a fucking pussy or are you gonna stand out here pouting all day?” she asked, leaning her hip against the wall opposite him.

 

 

                “You can fuck off,” Mickey grumbled, fumbling for another smoke and lighting it.

 

                “Didn’t know you could be such a whiny bitch,” Mandy mused and when Mickey sputtered to argue she just shrugged. “Just thought you’d try a little harder since you let him go so easily last time.”

 

                “What the fuck do you want me to do? He clearly doesn’t wanna fuckin’ talk to me,” Mickey said, only a little bitter. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

 

                “Well, make him.”

 

                “Oh, fuck off,” Mickey rolled his eyes and scuffed his boot on the pavement. “I can’t _make_ him talk to me. I can’t _make_ him do anything.”

 

                “You made him love you,” Mandy said and Mickey fell silent. “And anyways, since when did you ever let someone ignore you?” When Mickey didn’t answer, Mandy spat out; “Coward.”

 

                Mickey kicked at the dumpster and rounded on her. He wouldn’t hit her but he still got in her space, their chests bumping together. “I didn’t do anything to make him want to be with me. You think I fuckin’ _wanted_ him following me around like a fuckin’ puppy or some shit? I never fuckin’ wanted him to like me and I sure didn’t fuckin’ do anything to make him.”

 

                “You don’t know how he talked about you, Mick,” Mickey stared down at Mandy (barely; he was only a tiny bit taller than her) and she rolled her eyes. “I may not have known it was you, dickhead, but I’d have to have been blind not to see how fucked-in-love Ian was with you.” Mickey remained silent, his smoke burning out between his fingers. Mandy shoved and Mickey’s chest and shouldered past him, heading back towards the parking lot. “You did something to knock him on his ass and make him fall for you before. Surely you can figure it out and fucking do it again.”

 

-

 

                Eventually, Mickey did go back out to the parking lot where he found all three of them waiting by the car. Ian was between Debbie and Mandy, eagerly answering their questions and telling them stories. He didn’t even look up when Mickey came back and Debbie was the first person to speak to him, surprisingly.

 

                “Saved your last pancake,” she said, passing him a foam take-out container. He looked down at it and back up at her. She smiled brightly at him for a moment before turning her attention to her phone. He looked up from the container just in time to not get hit in the face with the keys that Mandy threw at him.

 

                He walked around the car and got in behind the wheel. He looked in the rearview mirror and had a moment of panic when he saw that Debbie and Mandy had taken the two back seats. He tensed up and waited for the agonizing awkward trip home before them with Ian riding shotgun. He was equal parts relieved and offended when Ian opened the back passenger side door and crawled over Mandy to sit in the middle back seat instead.

 

                He lit a smoke and started the car up. “Where we goin’?”

 

                “A hotel tonight,” Mandy answered, leaning against Ian’s shoulder and grinning. Mickey barely resisted rolling his eyes. “Debs and I decided earlier. We need one night of not sleeping in the car before we go back home. So we’re going to a hotel tonight and back home tomorrow.”

 

                “Aight,” Mickey said. He backed out of their spot and steered the car back onto the road. Once they were on their way he resolutely avoided using his rearview mirror since Ian was smack-dab in the middle of it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it might be a bit of time between this one and the next chapter since i'm in exams and i'm going home for easter to the world of dialup internet and countless volunteer commitments. so yeah might not get an update in next week, you've been warned

                The hotel they stayed at was about as shitty as could be but it was within their price range and it had two twins for them to crash in and they didn’t need much more than that. As far as Debbie was concerned the beds didn’t even matter, since the second she laid eyes on the pool in the courtyard she couldn’t care less about anything else.

 

                Before they’d even opened the door to their room Debbie had bugged Ian and Mandy into going swimming with her and they’d agreed. She’d even asked Mickey but hadn’t held much hope and predictably Mickey had said ‘fuck no’ and chose to instead hang around in the room and turn in early.

 

                He didn’t, though. As soon as he watched Ian and Mandy and Debbie leave in their swimsuits and carrying their towels he committed a good amount of the night to sulking. Ian and Mandy poked and teased each other while they waited for Debbie to change, just hanging out in their swimsuits. Ian commented on her swimsuit and how he liked her hair and Mandy in turn marveled over his biceps and pecs and abs and stupidly cut hips. Ian let her touch all the parts of Ian that Mickey wanted to grope and bite and it wasn’t _fair_.

 

                So he sulked. They left to hit the pool and he split his time between flicking through TV channels and not really watching it and going outside for smokes. From the parking lot outside their room where he leaned against the hood of the car he could hear the three of them dicking around in the pool. Debbie shouted and Mandy shrieked and Ian laughed loudly and Mickey wanted to be with them, to see him laugh and fool around with him, to keep him all to himself. He couldn’t, though. He was too busy feeling sorry for himself and burning through his smokes at an even less healthy rate than usual.

 

                On his fifth trip back outside he decided that listening to them was making him feel shittier than sitting alone in their room so he didn’t go back out. He changed into his sweats and a tank and tried to sleep. Maybe if he was asleep by the time they got back, no one would want to share a bed with him and someone would have to sleep on the floor. A large spiteful part of him hoped it would be Ian.

 

-

 

                “Is Mickey really your friend?” Debbie asked, resting her chin on her arms where she had them folded on the edge of the pool.

 

                “We used to hang out,” Ian replied after a moment’s silence. They watched Mandy walk away, dripping water everywhere as she went inside to get a pack of smokes from their room.

 

                “Yeah, he said that. And that you worked together,” Debbie said slowly, pausing in case Ian had anything to contribute. He didn’t, so she kept fishing. “How come you never invited him over for dinner or anything?”

 

                “I don’t know Debs, how come you never invited _your_ friends over when we were younger?” Ian snapped and Debbie let the irritable response slide. She was too curious.

 

                “All the boys at school are pigs and the girls are dumb skanks,” Debbie replied, leaving out the part about her two closest friends being prime examples of one of those. “Fiona always has Kev and V over and Lip had Karen and Mandy over a lot.”

 

                “Kev and V are honourary Gallaghers and have been most of our lives,” Ian said. “And Lip only had Mandy and Karen over because he was fucking them.”

 

                “And you’re... not like that with Mickey?” Debbie asked carefully, narrowing her eyes.

 

                “Nope!” Ian replied, flicking water at Debbie. She didn’t think much more about Ian’s answer. If he wanted to tell her he would. Instead she splashed him with as big a tidal wave of water as she could manage and in doing so started an energetic water fight that she ended up losing. Having her brother with her, smiling and laughing, was worth it.

 

-

 

                “The water isn’t cold,” Mandy said when she entered the hotel room to get smokes. Mickey pretended to sleep but Mandy could tell he was faking it because he never slept sprawled out unless he passed out drunk. He curled in on himself and took up as little space as possible, probably some deep psychological thing about how he spent his entire childhood trying to be small and avoid his father’s rage. At any rate he was actually awake so Mandy bounced her wet ass on the edge of the bed. Mickey didn’t budge but he tensed up. “C’mon, shithead, get up. You’re not fooling anyone, especially not me.”

 

                “Fuck off,” Mickey groaned into his pillow. “You’re getting the bed wet.”

 

                “You know, he wants to be with you,” Mandy started and Mickey grabbed the other pillow and covered his head with it. “He just wants an apology and I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”

 

                “Did he fuckin’ say that?” Mickey asked, rolling onto his side and further suffocating himself with the pillows. “Since he’s been trying’ really hard not to talk to me I find that really fuckin’ unlikely.”

 

                “He’s just as emotionally constipated as you are,” Mandy grumbled. “And almost as stubborn.”

 

                “I’m not that stubborn,” Mickey argued. “I can just take a hint and he’s sending me some pretty fuckin’ big ones.”

 

                Mandy looked like she wanted to argue more but Mickey let out a growl of frustration and turned his body so he could kick at her until she got off the bd. She flipped him off on her way out the door and called him a pussy and he threw one of his pillows at her. He accidentally dragged his feet through the wet spot on the bed from where she’d been sitting and cursed.

 

-

 

                Mandy came back out to the pool and sat on the edge smoking. She smoked two cigarettes and then tossed the pack back on her chair where her towel was folded up. She slipped into the pool with them and they started a game of Marco Polo.

 

                It wasn’t ten minutes before Mickey finally came crawling out of his den, wandering out in his jeans and a filthy white tank top. He moved Mandy’s towel off her chair and took her packet of smokes, flopping down in the chair and lighting one up.

 

                “Thought we were pissin’ on your sulk fest,” Mandy commented, paddling to the edge of the pool to tease Mickey.

 

                “Fuck off,” he mumbled. “Ran outta smokes. I’m gonna make a run after these are gone.”

 

                Mandy left him alone at that, racing and play fighting and splashing around with Ian and Debbie. Mickey smoked pretty constantly and if anyone asked that was all he was doing. What he really was doing was pretending he wasn’t watching Ian.

 

                He was hard not to watch though, all muscular and dripping wet. There had to be a law somewhere against looking that fucking good. If Mickey was honest, he basically just wanted to drag Ian off and fuck for like three days straight and then every day after that with the necessary breaks for food and water. The second he saw Ian in his stupid apron at that diner he’d felt lust like he hadn’t in months. How could he ever get aroused by tits and soft curves and slippery cunts when he’d had hard muscle and a broad rigid body and a thick curving cock inside him?

 

                He’d felt the best feeling on earth before and he’d felt it with Ian. He’d thought he could give that up and live a lie but that was before he’d let the lie tear him up inside and before he’d seen Ian again. He didn’t know what he’d thought was going to happen when he’d agreed to this little rescue mission, but it sure as hell wasn’t this.

 

                “Gimme the lighter, asshole,” Mandy said from the chair beside him, effectively snapping him out of his thoughts. He passed her the lighter and set the pack of smokes on the shitty plastic table sitting between them. They sat there together smoking and watching Ian and Debbie racing each other across the pool and it was strangely like a moment of sibling bonding.

 

                “He looks good, huh?” Mandy commented.

 

                “The fuck you talkin’ about?”

 

                “Ian,” Mandy said, letting out a long stream of smoke. “He’s fucking ripped.”

 

                Mickey grunted non-commitally and picked at his nails.

 

                Mandy rolled her eyes and smirked. “Please, Mick. You think I’m blind? You’ve been staring at him since you came out here.”

 

                “Quit acting like a fuckin’ know-it-all just ‘cause Ian told you one thing. He didn’t even fuckin’ tell you ‘cause he trusts you, he was just running his drunk mouth,” Mickey spat, a little muffled by his cigarette.

 

                “Shut the fuck up, Mickey. Ian tells me everything about all the guys he’s fucked,” Mandy argued. “He told me about the weird old perverts but he wouldn’t tell me about you. What does that make you? His dirtiest little secret he was ashamed of anyone knowing? Can’t say I fucking blame him.”

 

                “Hold the fuck up. He told you about me all the time, you just never put it together that it was me,” Mickey said, voice low so the redheaded Gallaghers in the pool wouldn’t look over and listen in. “He talked about me all the fucking time ‘cause he was fucking in love with me. So what does that make you, Mandy? Huh?” He barely paused before concluding. “It makes you wrong, you dumb bitch!”

 

                “You’re such an asshole,” she hissed, then went quiet because Ian had gotten out of the pool and for once she didn’t want to start shit. He flicked leftover pool water off his fingertips at her as he walked by before he disappeared back into the building.

 

                They sat in silence for a minute before Mandy eventually caved. “Can I use your phone? Mine’s dead and I wanna play 2048.”

 

                Mickey didn’t respond verbally, just dug it out of his pocket and passed it over. A truce if ever there was one.

 

                He didn’t even pay attention when she got up from her chair and backed up, phone in one hand and smokes in the other. Until, with a jerk, the ground fled from him and he was being carried, chair and all, across the pool deck. He yelped and swore and flailed but it did him no good as he was tossed into the pool, fully clothed and complete with his chair.

 

                He surfaced sputtering and cursing, reminiscent of a drowned rat. He blinked the chlorine and water from his eyes and pushed his sopping wet hair off his face. He looked up at the perpetrator and scowled up at Ian who looked beyond amused. “What the fuck, Gallagher?!”

 

                Mandy choked and snorted before she could hold it in no longer and she nearly fell over laughing. Ian laughed too and the sound was comfortable and beautiful to Mickey, even when the laughter was directed at him. Debbie giggled from in the pool and Mickey found even that endearing. He’d have been tempted to laugh himself; it was hilarious – but only if it happened to someone else. And anyways, Gallagher wasn’t even fucking talking to him, much less in a position to make fun of him.

 

                He left the chair floating there in the pool and went scrabbling up the plastic ladder hanging over the edge of the pool. His jeans were heavy and they hung too low on his hips. He hitched them up higher on his hips as he stomped off back into the hotel.

 

                “You gotta learn to lighten up, Mick!” Mandy called and he yelled expletives over his shoulder at her and the pair of Gallaghers. He hung his wet clothes over the shower curtain rod and tugged on his sweats again, then burrowed into the bed to warm his chilled body.

 

                He didn’t know how he managed to fall asleep as keyed up and angry as he was but he did. Ian briefly contemplated crawling into the bed with Mickey when he finally came in from the pool but he decided against it. He didn’t want to wake up to Mickey trying to smother him with a pillow. He just tugged the blankets up higher to cover Mickey’s goosebumped torso, then gathered the spare bedding he found in the closet and made himself a little nest in the bathtub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just imagine the scene where simba pulls nala into the water in the lion king [muffled 'can you feel the love tonight' in the distance]


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay on this! I won't be updating this for a week since I need to work on my fics for Gallavich week btw :)

It takes them longer to get back to Chicago than Mickey would have liked, but he supposed he didn’t have anything to go back to anyways. Aside from his wife and his shitty business (which he’d already arranged for Kev to take care of) he had nothing waiting for him. Debbie only had school and some weird older guy (what was it with redheaded Gallaghers and hooking up with older guys, seriously?) and Mandy just had her abusive boyfriend and stupid waffle house job. None of them had much of anything to look forward to and Mickey was pretty tempted to keep driving away from it.

He thought about it and wondered why he hadn’t done this years ago. He could have packed up and driven away and started over somewhere else, cross-country or down South or in fucking Canada or some shit. If Ian hadn’t been so hell-bent on the army maybe Mickey could have taken him with him. He probably would have eaten that shit up, ‘building a life together’ or whatever. He wanted to be boyfriends, after all. At times like this it seemed like he could handle something like that with Ian. But he’d lost that chance a long time ago and clearly he didn’t want anything to do with Mickey anymore.

Mandy turned off the highway and Mickey kicked at the back of her seat. “The fuck you goin’, Mandy? You turnin’ off the highway for?”

“I wanna drive along the beach,” Mandy said, but Mickey knew she was cooking something else up. The beach was choked with people and Mickey was a little sickened by the sheer corny touristiness of it. He knew he was fucked when they crawled past a probably-usually-vacant lot that was decked out with all the trimmings for a proper summer carnival. Rides, games, food stands, loud music, and lights – all of it. Mickey felt nauseated just looking at all the spinning rides and his stomach lurched as he looked up at the ferris wheel.

The traffic slowed to a stop in front of them and they were left with a perfect view of the fair. It was like the longer they sat looking at it the more excitement seeped into the car and infected the passengers. The excitement built between the other three until Ian saw someone with a massive bag of cotton candy and said; “We are so staying here tonight,” to which the girls enthusiastically agreed.

“Fuck me,” Mickey groaned, letting his head knock back against the car window. Ian smirked out the window of his own door and kept the comment he wanted to make to himself as Mandy searched for a cheap place to stay on the strip.

-

They rented a shitty little cabin on the beach and Mickey had far too much sand in his shoes to be anything less than an insufferable bitch about everything. Mickey tried to hang back, to stay in the cabin and sulk like usual, but Mandy wasn’t having it. Ian and Debbie went off to the fair and Mickey thought he was off the hook. He went out for his first smoke of the night and Mandy, the sneaky bitch, locked the door behind them and hooked her arm in Mickey’s, marching them off to the fair too.

Mickey bitched the whole way there but once they got there Mandy placated him with a fluffy bag of cotton candy. He picked at it moodily, but Mandy knew him well enough to know that Mickey was _all about_ cotton candy. It being literally nothing but spun sugar appealed to his sweet tooth in the absolute worst possible way.

They caught up to Ian and Debbie right as they were getting off the Zipper and Debbie intercepted Mandy, dragging her off to go on some other rides. Mickey was at a bit of a loss, floundering since he couldn’t smoke and the only person he knew here was actively ignoring him. He probably wouldn’t ask Mickey for help if they were the last two men on earth and Mickey had the cure to the poison rapidly killing him.

Ian caught Mickey’s eye and nodded over towards one of the half-dozen target shooting games the fair had to offer. Mickey froze once he registered Ian’s attempt to supposedly communicate with him, and when Ian joined his hands deep in his pockets and sauntered off towards the one with the biggest stuffed animal prizes, Mickey skulked along behind him.

He paid for a game and took up a pistol and proceeded to nail every target one after another. Mickey tried to ignore the flare of heat that was ignited in his gut when he saw Ian handle the weapon so expertly. Even if it was a shitty plastic pistol he still looked damn fine firing it. Besides keeping him buff and perfect physically, Mickey had to admit the army had probably kept his marksmanship top notch, if not improving it.

The pimply kid working at the booth was impressed, and handed Ian the appropriate prize – a sparkly blue dolphin, barely the length of his hand.

“He’s gonna try for it next. We’re gonna trade our prizes in for a better one until we get that one,” Ian declared, pointing to the massive white tiger hanging from the rafters that was bigger than Mickey was.

“Doubt it, man. No one’s that good,” the booth worker said smugly and Ian just paid for another round and handed the gun off the Mickey.

Mickey’s anxiety drained out of him with each round he popped off and each target he hit perfectly. The familiarity was enough to calm him down and it felt so reminiscent of the old days between them, before he’d gotten married and Ian had run away. They wasted away their days lazily doing target practice in abandoned buildings and military drills on their rooftops, between fucking each other blind. If there was one thing the pair of them both liked it was guns, almost as much as they liked getting off together. It was even better when they could do both.

He had a perfect game and the attendant gave him an identical toy to Ian’s, and they traded the dolphins in for a pink elephant. Mickey held it while Ian paid for another game and cleared the target range in no time flat. Mickey should have been freaked out by how natural and familiar it felt to do this with Ian, to work almost as a partner with him, but he was enjoying the feeling too much to let it go.

Ian got another dolphin and handed off the gun to Mickey. When Mickey took it the plastic was warm from Ian’s big hands and Mickey almost missed the target because he got distracted thinking about those hands on him.

The attendant didn’t notice but Ian did and he looked a little smug and a lot inquisitive as Mickey handed the gun off to him. Mickey got another dolphin and traded it for an elephant then traded both their elephants for a turtle.

It took them about ten minutes more to get four dolphins, two elephants, and another turtle. They traded their two turtles in for the giant tiger and Ian happily took it off the stunned booth worker.

“Are you guys army or hunters, or something?” he asked, still awe-struck.

“Yeah, I’m a West Point dropout,” Ian answered.

“What about him?” he asked, watching as Mickey lit a smoke and not even bothering to tell him smoking wasn’t allowed here. “Are you ex-army too?” he asked Mickey.

“Nah. Shitty neighbourhood and a crazy fucker for a father,” Mickey answered, following Ian as he left the booth to go find Mandy and Debbie.

-

To the surprise of literally no one, Ian ditched Mickey and disappeared to go on rides with Mandy. This left Mickey alone with Debbie but he supposed it could be worse. She was a lot fonder of him once he presented her with the prize he and Ian had won for her.

The last thing they did before Mandy and Ian took off was get the keys to the cabin from Mandy so that they could drop the tiger off there in favour of dragging it around the fair with them for however many more hours they would spend in this place.

It didn’t occur to Mickey until after they’d dropped off the tiger and were halfway back to the fair that he could have stayed there. He could have crashed early and sent Debbie back to the fair and it could be tomorrow and they could leave. One less night of Ian hating him.

The thought never even struck him and he supposed that probably meant something bad for him. He’d had fun with Ian playing that shooting game, and he held out hope that maybe Ian had too. Only he doubted that since Ian still hadn’t spoken to him or shown any intent to do so.

As they turned the corner up into the parking lot where the fair was set up, they heard a couple whistles and catcalls. Mickey just kept walking but he noticed Debbie tense up beside him. Out of the corner of his eye Mickey saw a group of three men, probably in their late twenties, and as they passed by the men shouted a variety of rude and inappropriate things to them. It took most of Mickey’s will not to knock the fuckers around a bit, but he quelled the chaos inside him and walked past them without throwing a single punch.

…that is, until he heard one set of footsteps fall into step behind them. Debbie looked anxiously over her shoulder but Mickey continued staring stubbornly ahead, until the dirtbag caught up and grabbed Debbie by the arm.

“Leave me alone,” Debbie warned, and Mickey nearly rolled his eyes at how polite she managed to sound even as she told the guy to fuck off. Her and Ian were one in the fucking same. That included their ability to attract creepy older guys who just wouldn’t quit.

“C’mon, honey, you don’t wanna be with this pasty faggot,” the guy assured Debbie. “Let me show you how a real man can treat you.”

“Hitting on underage girls makes you a real man, then?” Mickey asked, eyeing the man with distaste even as Debbie yanked her arm out of his grasp. She turned to continue on her way and Mickey was prepared to accompany her until the gross douchebag slunk around and got back in their path again.

“I got good shit, sweetie. Weed, coke, whatever pills you want,” the guy offered and that was it. Mickey would be damned if he let some older guy feed Debbie drugs and take advantage of her. He thought of Mandy and the perverts that had started snapping at her heels from the time she turned thirteen, their father included. He thought of Ian too, who had been convinced that he and his creepy towelhead boss could be together just because Kash said someday he could. Or that old fucker that Mickey kicked the shit out of who used pricey food and fancy dates to keep Ian’s attention.

First he broke the shithead’s nose (he apologized to Debbie later for the blood he got on her shoes when the blood started to flow more heavily). A punch in the stomach took him down and Mickey kicked his ribs and groin in until Debbie pulled him by the arm and made him back off.

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself and pick on girls your own age. Or not. You’re lucky I don’t cut your fucking dick off since apparently you don’t have that shit under control,” Mickey growled, spitting a thick gob of saliva into the guy’s face and storming off. He paused, and shouted back at him. “An’ if I see you or your friends anywhere near my sister again, I will _fuck you up_.”

“Mickey, come on,” Debbie insisted, finding his hand and pulling at him. He cast one last death glare over the pathetic waste of space groaning and shifting on the ground before he shook Debbie’s touch off and stormed back to the fair.

-

They found Ian and Mandy hanging out in line for the food truck. Mickey tossed they keys back to Mandy and she put them in her purse and Ian saw the blood on Mickey’s knuckles. He kept quiet about it until they had gotten their pogos and were wandering around eating.

Ian fell into step with Debbie and then slowed their pace until Mickey and Mandy were far enough ahead that they wouldn’t overhear.

“Debs, did something happen with Mickey earlier?” he asked, twisting his wrist and licking off a wayward dribble of ketchup off the side of his hand.

Debbie sheepishly nodded and hesitated a bit before speaking. “There was this guy – he was older, like probably thirtyish, which I guess isn’t that old for _you_ but he was creeping me right out.”

Ian snickered. “Hey, I’m an equal opportunist. Wanna tell me what happened after that?”

“Uh – yeah. He was saying some stuff, grabbing my arm and trying to get me to come with him and I told him to back off. He kept bugging me and he offered me drugs and Mickey went off on him.”

“I figured it was something like that,” Ian said. “Kind of surprised Mickey stood up for you. He’s a bit of a prick.”

Debbie just shrugged. “To you, maybe.”

“Debs, I don’t mean to be patronizing, but I’ve known him a lot longer and a lot more… intimately than you have. One good thing doesn’t make up for all the shitty things he’s done in the past.” Debbie didn’t comment, just stared ahead and gnawed her lip. “He’s a petty thief and a selfish douchebag on top of it. Trust me, he was just looking for someone to punch and you gave him an opportunity.”

“Ian, I don’t want to argue about this or tell you who to like and who to hate. But Mickey is the only boyfriend” (Ian rolled his eyes.) “of yours I’ve ever met. I know I haven’t had a lot to compared him to, but Mickey isn’t as bad as I thought he was and even if you haven’t talked to him at all since we came to get you, and I think he’s crazy about you.”

“Then you must be on something fun and I’m honestly offended you haven’t offered to share,” Ian said. “Mickey doesn’t care about me. He doesn’t care about you. He barely cares about Mandy, and she’s the only person he has in the world. He’s a cold heartless bastard and the world is full of people like him.”

“Did you ever consider that you’re the heartless one, Ian?” Debbie asked. She hadn’t meant to be hurtful, she was just curious. “I mean he clearly cares about you. Mandy says he’s been an absolute mess since you took off and he came all this way without any guarantee of you even talking to him. You’re doing a really good job of proving who the selfish douchebag here is.”

Ian didn’t have a response to that, so he just let Debbie march on ahead to join Mandy and Mickey. He chewed on his lip and caught up with his sibling and good-as-sibling and… whatever Mickey was.

-

Debbie kept an eye on Ian and he was a bit on the quiet side but when they rounded to the food truck again and Mandy suggested that they compete to see who could deep throat a pogo better, he bounced right back. Debbie was practically disgusted by it and Mickey had no interest in watching it and thinking of all the dicks the pair of them had sucked to have skills worth competing over. Instead they got snow cones and watched a girl scramble off the spinning strawberries ride to puke on the pavement over the fence at the edge of the lot.

“Mickey,” Debbie began. Mickey didn’t even look up from where he poked at his snow cone. “Thanks. For earlier.”

He shrugged. “It was nothing.”

“No, you were like heroic and stuff. I was scared. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.” Debbie insisted. She tried to be sunny and cheerful but without smothering him with it. She knew he wasn’t the type to take compliments well or to let anyone make a fuss over him. He thumbed at his lip like he did when he was nervous or thoughtful and she stammered to try and make it seem like it was nothing. “I just want you to know I’m thankful you were there to take care of me.”

“It’s what any decent person would do,” Mickey said. “I’m giving it a try.”

Mickey was a decent guy, Debbie decided. He was a decent guy and Ian was wrong about him. She just hoped he would recognize that before Mickey really gave up on him.

-

When Mandy won their little contest and Ian had to cover the cost of buying her lunch the next day, they laughed about it.

“I was never really any good at that,” Ian laughed, eating his pogo like a regular human being now.

“Really? Thought you had a shitload of practice,” Mandy teased.

“Old trolls are too glad to have a mouth on their dick to really care if the boy’s any good at using it,” Ian said, shrugging. “Guess I got sloppy when I realized I didn’t have to try.”

Mandy covered her mouth to keep in her snorts of laughter. “That’s just nasty.”

“You think that’s nasty? I was just about to add that in my last sort-of relationship I wasn’t the one who was good at sucking dick.”

“Jesus, you mean…?” Mandy asked, a look of pure horror shifting to disgust on her face.

“I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve got a big dick and he learned to take it all,” Ian said. Mandy promptly punched him.

-

They went back to the cabin at around one in the morning and figured out their sleeping situation. There was one queen sized bed and a pull out couch between the four of them. The girls took the bed and left Ian and Mickey sleeping on the same pull-out bed and that just wasn’t going to happen. Mickey volunteered to sleep in the car and began gathering pillows and a couple blankets when Mandy stopped him.

“Mickey, don’t make this a big deal. You don’t have to fucking curl up and cuddle. Just take one side of the bed and he’ll take the other. Stop being such a fucking girl about this.” She advised.

If only to prove that he could, Mickey pulled out the couch and put the sheet on the bed. He found a separate blanket in the closet near the bathroom, stripped down to his boxers and rolled himself up in the blanket on one side of the lumpy pull out mattress. He listened to Ian finish brushing his teeth in the bathroom and he tensed up when he heard the water turn off and Ian spitting into the sink.

Ian padded across the bedroom and paused beside the bed, unrolling the blanket Mickey had dumped on his side of the bed and crawling under it. Even from across the bed Ian could feel the heat radiating off Mickey’s body. It was tempting to move closer to the warmth and sink into it. He would roll over and scoot in close, put an arm around Mickey and kiss at his shoulder and the back of his neck. Mickey would either roll over and kiss him like Ian often dreamed he might or he would squirm and moan and they would fuck right then and there. Ian would be able to touch him all over and murmur in his ear. He would have to be quiet to spare Debbie and Mandy the trauma, but he would fill Mickey’s ear with filth like he used to. Mickey would be loud, practically whining as Ian teased him with not-quite-penetration. Ian would clap a hand over Mickey’s mouth to keep his moans in when he finally entered him, and Mickey would bite at his fingers and the fleshy parts of his hand to stifle his sounds. Mickey would desperately suck at his fingers and jerk his own cock and he’d get progressively more frantic as they got closer and closer to finishing together. He would bite on Mickey’s shoulder and leave a big gorgeous mark as he came and Mickey would writher in his arms and clutch at his wrist with his free hand as he made a mess of the sheets beneath them.

They would roll onto as dry spot and cuddle together. They wouldn’t say anything aside from exchanging an ‘I missed you’ before they finally dozed off. They would go back to the South Side and shack up in Ian’s basement and live happily ever after.

Those were the things they _would_ do. What Ian _did_ do was murmur; “Thank you. For earlier, with Debbie.”

Mickey didn’t respond and Ian wasn’t sure if he was asleep or if he was just ignoring him. Either way he just laid awake until his dick settled down after that little fantasy and then finally dozed off.

Mickey himself laid awake for even longer than Ian did. He was embarrassed to admit how only a few words from Ian made him feel like he was soaring, way too wired to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> couple notes - i have nothing against 1-d or k-pop, first thing. but can you imagine mickey reacting to that? lol
> 
> also the song that plays when they talk about ian's work is move like u stole it of course.

                The next day Mickey went out for a morning swim under the pretense that he was out for a smoke. It let him have the beach to himself and none of his family or good-as-family or ex-whatevers knew he was out having a moment of peace until the ex-something wandered out onto the beach and lit a smoke. Or, tried to, at least.

 

                Ian wandered to the edge of the water and let the tide lap at his bare feet. Mickey pretended he didn’t notice as he floated and paddled slowly around. The water was cooler than the air but still warm from the beating sun the day before.

 

                Mickey got to his feet and waded through the waist-deep water and in to shore. He tried to think of some destination other than to where Ian was standing burying his toes in the wet sand but that was where his feet took him.

 

                He vaguely recalled a conversation he’d been fourth wheel to back when they’d first found Ian and the lunch that followed. He started their first real conversation with a question. It seemed as good a start as any. “Thought you quit?”

 

                “Stress brings out the worst in me,” Ian said, watching as Mickey strode to him. He may have lingered on the wet fabric of his shorts clinging to his hips and thighs but he couldn’t be blamed. Mickey looked good, and in the slow lightening morning sun on the beach he was especially beautiful.

 

                Mickey plucked the smoke from between Ian’s fingers without a word and sucked the smoke down. He took it with him as he turned and started walking down the beach. Ian took a moment to check him out from the back – confirmed that his ass was as perfect as Ian remembered – and followed along. In a few steps he was beside Mickey, reaching to snatch his smoke back like he had so many times before. Like all those times Mickey flailed a little and took a huge breath of smoke before he finally let Ian have it.

 

                The sun rose over the water while they walked and the sheer romantic nature of the moment wasn’t lost on either of them. Neither chose to address it though, figuring they weren’t at that point in their sort-of reunion yet. Instead they just looked on in silence as the sun lit the clouds up with pinks and oranges and it reflected on the smooth shimmering surface of the water.

 

-

 

                After the boys worked their way through another cigarette after the first one, they turned and walked back to the cabin where the girls were still hopefully sleeping. When they got back they were surprised to find them waiting outside the cabin, leaning against the side of the car and dicking around with their respective phones.

 

                “Where’s the fuckin’ fire? Jesus,” Mickey commented, eyeing the bags that had been tossed in the back seat of the car. “You got someone lookin’ for you or somethin’?”

 

                “I’m not the ex-convict here, asshole,” Mandy said, pushing herself off the car and striding up to Mickey to snatch his pack of smokes from him. She flipped it open and slid her finger down the side of it until she hooked her nail in the key ring and tugged it out. She threw the pack back at him and then took the keys and opened the trunk. Mickey helped her moved their stuff to the trunk. Mandy eyed Mickey and smirked. “You get some off him?”

 

                “Who?” Mickey asked, huffing out his breath as he tossed Debbie’s backpack into the trunk.

 

                “Ian,” Mandy answered, wry and cocky. She kept her voice low so the pair of Gallaghers wouldn’t hear them. “Did you get some off him?”

 

                “Some what?” Mickey moved the last couple bags from the back seat and Mandy caught him by the arm so he couldn’t retreat to the car.

 

                “You fucked him,” Mandy decided. Mickey sputtered to argue but Mandy just grinned at him and let it go, taking the keys from him and sauntering over to climb in the driver’s seat.

 

                “Isn’t it a little early?” Ian asked Debbie while he watched Mickey and Mandy bicker and load their stuff into the trunk again.

 

                “Check out is at ten but we were both awake and you two were gone so we thought why not get started early,” Debbie answered without sparing Ian a glance while she tapped away at her phone screen.

 

                Ian shrugged and shoved at Debbie until she moved around to the passenger side and got in, then slid into the back seat himself. Mickey got in beside him and even though Ian wasn’t actively ignoring him anymore there was still a valley of tension between them as Mandy backed out of their spot and took off. Mandy drove along the beach and made some comment about the sky being a pretty colour and all Ian could think was that it looked much better when it was warming Mickey’s skin, turning pallid white a soft yellow.

 

-

 

                A decision had been made in the early stages of their journey that day. It had started when Debbie’s earphones cut out an hour and a half after they’d left the cabin. She’d cursed softly and asked if she could plug her iPod into the auxiliary jack that the car had stashed away in the glove compartment. Mandy had told her to go for it and it wasn’t five seconds into Debbie’s first selection that Mickey knew he would not be able to handle this shit for long.

 

                “The fuck is this?” he’d asked in disgust when Debbie had picked a song and hit play.

 

                “One Direction,” Debbie answered. “My friend Holly got me into them. The guys in the band are _totally_ bangtastic.”

 

                Ian snorted and Mickey scowled. Fucking boy bands. He was gay but he wasn’t _that_ gay. “It’s shit. Find something else.”

 

                “Um – alright,” Debbie flicked through her playlists a little nervously until she settled on something and clicked it.

 

                “Is this even fucking english?” Mickey asked, when he could already feel the headache this bubblegum pop would give him before too long coming on.

 

                “No, it’s Korean,” Debbie said.

 

                “Jesus fucking Christ,” Mickey groaned, slumping down in his seat dramatically. Ian laughed probably harder than he should have at his ex-whatever’s misery.

 

-

 

                After an hour of Debbie’s too-upbeat-for-Mickey tunes, Ian took pity on him and proposed a compromise.

 

                “Why don’t we switch music every hour or something?” he asked, and Mickey was so desperate for reprieve that he was nodding even though he didn’t have any music to contribute. He’d pawned his iPod a couple of months ago. “Debbie just had her turn, next it’ll be me, then Mandy, then Mickey and back to Debbie again. Sound good?”

 

                Mickey planned on having an hour of silence or the radio or something during his turn. He agreed and despite some pouting from Debbie since she apparently had expected to have control of the music for the whole journey she eventually agreed. And thus ended Debbie Gallagher’s Reign of Musical Terror, 2014-2014.

 

                Ian’s turn was next and Debbie reluctantly passed back the audio jack to the back seat. Ian dug his iPod from his pocket and plugged it in and Mickey was relieved when the speakers filled the car with generic alternative music. Anything but that shit Debbie was pumping out.

 

                They enjoyed the not-too-heavy tunes that Ian provided until a particular song came on that had Mickey curling his lip in disgust.

 

                “Ian, what the fuck?” he asked, staring at the redhead beside him as if he’d grown a second dick or something. Maybe not the worst thing, Mickey reflected.

 

                Ian shrugged. “They played this song at my work all the time and it always got stuck in my head. Can’t help admitting I kind of like it now.”

 

                “They played club beats at a diner?” Debbie asked, looking at Ian in the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised.

 

                “No, they played this song as the club I worked at,” Ian said and Mandy smiled a little to herself while the other two looked appropriately aghast.

 

                “You work in a club?” Debbie asked, concern evident in her eyes.

 

                “Yeah. I was a bartender but I got promoted to being a dancer.”

 

                “You were a fucking _dancer_?” Mickey yelped. “Like a _stripper_?”

 

                “Nah, I never took anything off. Just danced on a platform at the club and sometimes gave guys lapdances.”

 

                “I thought you stopped giving lapdances,” Mandy commented. Mickey glared at her because based on her lack of surprise the bitch _knew_.

 

                “Well yeah but if someone asked for one I wasn’t gonna say no. It’s good money. I could usually get three or four in during my break. Made lots of cash grinding on cock off the clock, y’know?” Ian said and Mickey was astounded that he could talk about this like it was nothing. He didn’t trust himself to express that. To his gut-wrenching discomfort, Ian went on. “Plus I was so high and horny I barely even remember it.”

 

                Mickey stewed in his anger and jealousy while Mandy and Ian chattered about it. Eventually they stopped, but only when Debbie sheepishly admitted how uncomfortable it was making her. Mickey couldn’t blame her. He’s grown up with older guys trying to get into Mandy’s pants since he was thirteen. It made him sick to think about those disgusting men who put their filthy hands on her and it probably always would. When Debbie spoke up and Ian dropped the topic Mickey added a point in her book. She was forgiven for the 1-D K-pop thing. Mostly.

 

-

 

                Mickey liked most of what Mandy listened to so it definitely didn’t hurt him to have Mandy’s soft emo metal playing in the car. He zoned out and woke with a start when Mandy drove over a huge pothole and bumped his side of the car hard. He blinked blearily and scrubbed at his eyes, fighting down a yawn.

 

                Ian watched him from across the back seat. He definitely mirrored that sentiment right now; he’d barely gotten any sleep either, too tense laying next to Mickey to properly fall asleep. He watched the thug’s eyelids droop more and more as he sat there and privately found it beyond-adorable. It reminded him of the times so long ago when they would dick around at the dugout and fuck themselves into exhaustion late into the night. Mickey always did the same thing: urged Ian to fuck him again and again and coax climax after climax out of him until he could barely hold his head up. Then he’d slump back against the bench and light a smoke and before he got half-done it he’d be snoring. Ian usually had to pluck the smoke off Mickey’s chest after it inevitably fell out of his mouth, still smouldering. He always bitched about little burn holes in his tops and Ian just chuckled.

 

                Because of this Ian knew the second Mickey was gone. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the backrest of the seat (“just havin’ a long blink, Gallagher, stop fuckin’ laughing or I’ll kick you in the teeth,” he’d always said) and then he was snoring, head lolling to the side.

 

                Ian watched Mickey nap a little enviously before he thought ‘fuck it’ and got comfy against his door. The sun beating in through the window kept him awake at first, harsh on his eyelids. He let his head flop to the other side and instead the sun warmed his neck and chest wonderfully and he was out, borderline comatose with the gap between him and Mickey rapidly narrowing.

 

-

 

                “Are they both asleep?” Mandy asked. Debbie didn’t respond, so Mandy reached over and shoved at her leg. “C’mon, Debs. Check or something.”

 

                “ _How_?”Debbie turned around, supposedly to prod the boys to see if they’d respond, but Mandy caught her wrist and the car swerved violently. “What? How do you want me to check?”

 

                “I don’t know. Just don’t wake them up if they are asleep,” Mandy said, turning in her seat and putting both hands back on the wheel again. “Wave a Snickers bar at them or something.”

 

                “ _That was one time_ ,” Debbie grumbled under her breath but she still twisted in her seat and waved her hands on front of their faces, snapping her fingers for good measure. Ian just shifted, leaning closer to Mickey and Mickey snuffled a little, snoring softly. Debbie settled back into the passenger seat. “They’re asleep.”

 

                Mandy got her phone out of the driver’s side cupholder and passed it to Debbie. “Take a picture.”

 

                Debbie did, and upon hearing the beep of the phone’s camera, Ian shifted again, slumping to the side. His arm pressed against Mickey’s and Mickey huffed and let out a loud snore and then flopped over against Ian. His head landed on Ian’s shoulder and an arm came up and clutched at Ian’s bicep. Mandy snickered. Couldn’t blame unconscious-Mickey for that; Ian was fucking jacked.

 

                “Holy shit, they’re fucking cuddling,” Mandy hissed when Ian leaned his cheek against the top of Mickey’s head. The car swerved again as Mandy freaked out and the boys shuffled a little but settled back down, possibly snuggling even closer than before. “Take a fucking picture, Debbie! It’s been forever since I got any blackmail dirt on Mick. For a guy who drinks away his fucking sorrows, he doesn’t do many shitty embarrassing drunk things.”

 

                Debbie snapped a couple pictures and Mandy smirked. She was reluctant to wake the boys up when they finally pulled into a truck stop to get some food in their bellies. Mandy gave them a shake and then left them to wake up and realize what had happened on their own. Even though they would probably be downright adorable and bashful when they realized they’d been cuddling like a pair of sleepy puppies. Hopefully they would take it as a sign or something and make up. Pair of idiots.

 

-

 

                Ian yawned and scratched his neck, leaning against the door of the car and staring moodily out the window. It was Mickey’s turned to drive and Mandy and Debbie were passed out in the back seat. Ian dicked with his phone, smirking a little at the picture Mandy had sent him while they are lunch. It was wallpaper-material if ever he saw it.

 

                He stared at the picture until the screen turned off and yawned again. “I missed you, y’know.”

 

                Mickey didn’t respond but his grip on the steering wheel tightened. His knuckles blanched around his crude black ink. He gnawed on his lip and focused on the dark road ahead of them.

 

                “I thought about you a lot while I was at school,” Ian admitted, leaning his weight back against the seat. “I had to keep myself busy to avoid giving in and running back to you.”

 

                “Wish you had,” Mickey mumbled.

 

                “Yeah, because living with your wife and kid must be so rough,” Ian said bitterly. If only Ian knew that every second that he spent with his wife was a nightmare. With all the time that passed her belly was getting bigger and he knew that when his child came screaming into this world he would hate it. He wouldn’t be able to look at it without experiencing how it was conceived all over again. He’d be screaming and crying too if he’d known that he’d be born into a shitty neighbourhood in a shitty world with a shitty father who felt sick at the very sight of him.

 

                Ian spoke again. “Sorry. Forget I said that. I’m trying to say I haven’t forgiven you, but it wasn’t your fault. Your dad’s a monster and gave you an ultimatum and even if I don’t think you made the best choice, I can’t blame you.”

 

                “He would have fucking killed me,” Mickey was kind of mad that the first thing he said to Ian was that. “You too. He probably would have made me watch.”

 

                “I know that,” Ian mumbled. “You made the only choice you thought you could and I don’t blame you for it but I’m still hurt.” Ian crossed his arms and looked over at Mickey. “I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you and treating you like shit. You surprised me when you helped Debbie and I’m rethinking being mad at you because something about you has changed. I just wouldn’t let myself see it.”

 

                Mickey almost snorted. Ian basically plugged his ears and yelled to avoid letting Mickey plead his case. “So what’s that mean? Where are we at?”

 

                “I don’t really know,” Ian replied, and Mickey thought, _fuckin’ great_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm really bad at multichaps, sorry. updates come once in a millennia when the stars are aligned OTL

                Mickey and Mandy took turns driving until they were only a few hours away from Chicago and Mandy, who was driving at the time, declared that they were going to spend their last night on the road at a motel. One more night of relative freedom before they had to go back to their jobs, impoverished families, dumb abstinent ex-boyfriends, abusive current boyfriends, knocked-up wives, and oppressive homophobic fathers.

 

                Or, at least, that was what Mickey had thought was the plan, but it turned out that while Mickey had been asleep Mandy had promised Debbie that as the final night of their road trip, they were going to have a girls’ night.

 

                “Mandy’s painting my nails and putting streaks in my hair and we’re gonna watch chick flicks,” Debbie informed Ian as she grabbed a bottle of peroxide and a jar of blue hair dye off the shelf at the drug store. Mickey puttered around down the aisle from them, pretending he wasn’t eavesdropping. Debbie dumped her items into the basket Ian was carrying for her and they both wandered off to grab some snacks.

 

                After hearing their plans, Mickey was contemplating picking up a bottle of bleach himself – to guzzle down and save himself the agony of a chick flick fucking streaking party. He was often glad he wasn’t straight, but whenever he thought about never having to deal with watching some girly romcom in the hopes of getting a girl to suck him off after he was extremely grateful. He was especially thankful Gallagher liked action movies and that suited Mickey just fine. Maybe sometime they could watch some together again – if Ian and him ever got back to the way they’d been before.

 

                Ian carried Debbie’s bag of stuff as they walked the couple blocks between the drug store and their hotel. Mandy wanted to shower as soon as possible so she’d stayed back in their room, and when they came back she was laying on the bed in a pair of Ian’s sweats, flicking through the TV channels.

 

                Ian declared he was taking a shower next and that was really a visual that Mickey couldn’t deal with so he sat on the edge of the bed and pleaded with Mandy.

 

                “You’re not fuckin’ watching chick flicks and all that shit,” he said, scowling as Mandy settled on TLC.

 

                “Oh yeah, we are,” Mandy argued. She crawled forward on the bed to dig through the drug store bag where Ian had dumped it. She inspected the bottle of peroxide and the packet of bleach and skimmed over the instructions. “It’s our last night in the city and I promised Debbie.”

 

                “No way. No fuckin’ way,” Mickey growled, thinking about initiating a wrestling match with Mandy over the remote (because _TLC_ , what the fuck Mandy?) but eventually decided against it because effort.

 

                “Yes fucking way,” Mandy said firmly and Mickey knew by her tone that it really wasn’t worth it to argue. Mandy was more anxious than Mickey had seen her all week and it probably had a lot to do with their proximity to the city. Mickey couldn’t blame her for that. “Go to a liquor store and buy some booze and go to a park and get drunk or something. I’m sure Ian would be down.”

 

                Mickey didn’t have a response for that since he was still incredibly unsure of where he stood with Ian so it wasn’t like they had a lot of easy conversation to fall into. Ian had spent the past few days actively ignoring Mickey or physically accosting him, so it wasn’t as if he seemed particularly eager to interact with Mickey. What would they even talk about? They would have to rely entirely on the alcohol to carry their conversations and being drunk with you ex-whatever who you’re still undeniably in love with and incredibly attracted to always spelled trouble.

 

                Mickey swiped Mandy’s smokes and fled the room in an attempt to avoid that situation. He shoved his hands in his pockets and slouched off in search of the nearest liquor store.

 

-

 

                Ian had barely stepped out of the shower when he heard the hotel room door slam. He pulled on a spare pair of underwear and jeans and wandered out to find a shirt.

 

                He found Mandy lounging on the bed while Debbie looked through the channels for a suitable chick flick. There was something on Showcase so Debbie picked it but Ian wasn’t really interested.

 

                “Where’s Mickey?”

 

                “Fucked off somewhere,” Mandy replied, picking at her split ends.

 

                “Somewhere?”

 

                “Yeah, I told him to go find some booze and get drunk so I guess that’s where he’s gone,” Mandy elaborated. Debbie gathered up the hair dying supplies with intent, so Ian knew he’d get nothing more from Mandy.

 

                It only took him about twenty minutes to wander until he found a liquor store. It was obviously the right one since he found Mickey sitting on the edge of the parking lot with a part case of beer beside him and empties and cigarette butts scattered by his feet. He was a vision out of a Ke$ha song, looking strung-out and pathetic, but Ian couldn’t help but smile a little.

 

                “Didn’t know you’d enrolled in the Frank Gallagher School of Solving Problems,” Ian commented as he retrieved one of Mickey’s beers and took a seat next to him.

 

                “Don’t even compare me to that fucking asshole,” Mickey grumbled, draining his current beer and tossing the can. He shook a smoke free from Mandy’s pack and fumbled to light it. After watching Mickey struggle and curse Ian took the lighter from him and lit it himself. Mickey glared at him and snatched the lighter back before he took a long drag off the smoke. When Ian just sat there silently but looking earnest, Mickey sighed. “The fuck do you want?”

 

                “You think I wanna hang out with our sisters and paint my fucking nails?” Ian asked, though he was more concerned with making sure Mickey was okay.

 

                “Well you did work in that fag club, so maybe that’s what you’re into now,” Mickey said, and Ian took the smoke when it was offered to him. “You a certified fairy or something now?”

 

                “Yeah, got a laminated membership card and everything,” Ian replied. “Fits right in the handy ID slot in my wallet.”

 

                “Fuck off,” Mickey grunted and they fell quiet for awhile, sharing the beers and cigarettes.

 

                Eventually they emptied the case of beer (Mickey drank approximately three quarters of it since Ian figured one of them should stay sober enough to get them back to the hotel and Mickey was half in the bag when Ian got there) and Ian got to his feet, holding out his hand to help Mickey up. With a great deal of bitch and complaining Mickey rejected Ian’s help and struggled off the curb.

 

                Mickey took one step and nearly fell down, and Ian was there pulling Mickey’s arm over his shoulder and sliding his own around Mickey’s waist, holding him relatively upright but mostly letting Mickey lean against him. He wriggled and tried to escape Ian’s touch but he was too sluggish and uncoordinated and he just slumped grumpily against Ian.

 

                Ian helped Mickey all the way back to the hotel where they found Debbie and Mandy deep in discussion. Debbie had foils in her hair and Mandy was painting her toenails deep purple. Ian tried to lead Mickey into the bathroom to get some water into him but Mickey started sputtering and arguing and pulling away when he realized what the girls were talking about.

 

                “You mean the guy from that fucking vampire movie?” Mickey snorted.

 

                “He’s a werewolf,” Debbie insisted.

 

                “He’s still a stupid model-looking faggot,” Mickey said, completely ignoring the huff of breath Ian let out as he choked on a laugh.

 

                “I can’t really take anything you say about boys seriously,” Debbie said, and Ian tried to pull Mickey away from them again since he was undoubtedly going to out himself to Debbie at this rate.

 

                Did he not see Ian, or fuck, even himself sometimes, when he cleaned himself up? Mickey had gorgeous eyes and pouty lips and unblemished pale skin and Ian had such a long body with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He had a rounder face than most modelesque types did but his eyes were striking enough to make him unique amongst an endless sea of carbon copy men. Mickey had _no right_ to comment on ‘stupid model-looking faggots’ and he was a bastard for doing it.

 

He eventually let go after Mickey said; “Probably fuck like total pussies,” because Ian couldn’t really salvage the conversation at this point.

 

                Mandy snorted. “And you’d know what real men fuck like, huh?” she teased, eyeing Ian. Mickey flopped on the edge of the bed and rolled until he was sitting up and ready to lay down the law.

 

                “Fuck yeah I do,” Mickey replied and Ian tried not to puff up too much. “Been fucked by more real men than you have,” he told Mandy.

 

                To say Debbie was confused would be an understatement. On the up side of things, the pieces fell together like a puzzle and everything made a lot more sense. She suddenly understood a lot of things that had happened in the year before Ian had taken off. She got why Mandy had insisted on Mickey coming on this road trip and why he and Ian had been so awkward around each other since they’d gotten Ian back. It explained why he couldn’t seem to identify his friendship with Ian and why Debbie had no idea they had one in the first place.

 

                “Guess it could be worse,” Ian admitted, smirking at Mandy. “At least she’s not gushing about Channing Tatum or something.”

 

                “Nah, Taylor whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is is worse than him. At least he was pretty hot in that stripper movie.”

 

                “I didn’t really like that movie,” Ian admitted. “Like the guys were hot I guess, but not rally what I’m into.”

 

                “Yeah, I guess the movie would be less cool since you were living it, right?” Mickey said, surprisingly bitter since he was at the point of drunkenness that he generally didn’t put enough thought into anything to be bitter. Angry, yes, but not bitter.

 

                Ian sunk into the desk chair beside the bed, watching as Mandy and Mickey argued about whether Andrew Garfield was a top or a bottom. Debbie crawled over to the edge of the bed and leaned over to talk to Ian.

 

                “Mickey’s gay?” Debbie asked, though she’d worked enough of it out that she didn’t really _need_ to ask.

 

                “Yeah,” Ian answered, picking at a loose thread in the upholstery of the armchair.

 

                “And you two are...?”

 

                “No,” Ian replied, shrugging. “Sort of. We used to have something but we were never together or anything,” he tugged at the string until it broke and he flicked it to the floor. “Nothing to get sad over.”

 

                “Right,” Debbie said, though she didn’t believe a word of it.

 

                Ian let the awkward silence between them foster for a few moments before he attempted to ask her about her guy problems. He was interrupted by a scuffle between the Milkoviches on the bed. They got suddenly loud (especially Mickey) and there was some pushing and shoving before Mickey pushed Mandy too hard and she lashed out, socking Mickey across the jaw and knocking him off the side of the bed.

 

                He fell to the floor and Mandy and Ian both laughed, assuming he’d just shake it off and maybe hit her back. When he finally struggled his way up they stopped laughing. He cussed Mandy out, but the three of them stared as red bloomed from the side of his head and ran down his jaw where a bruise already formed.

 

                “What the fuck are you assholes looking at?” Mickey asked, completely ignoring the blood on his face as he wiped it away.

 

                Ian managed to get an unwilling Mickey to the bathroom without getting too much blood on the carpet and the bedding. He sat Mickey on the toilet and pressed a wad of toilet paper against the wound on his temple. Mickey fussed a little but Ian didn’t take any of his shit and just persisted until Mickey’s head stopped bleeding.

 

                Ian leaned in close to inspect Mickey’s wound and then suddenly Mickey closed the gap, pulling Ian in by the front of his shirt and kissing him hard. Ian didn’t even bother pretending to resist; he was all too eager to press back against Mickey. From where he’d been holding Mickey’s head he shifted, cupping his skull more gently, tenderly swiping his tongue over the older man’s lip. Ian treasured the moan that Mickey let out at he parted them for him. One of Mickey’s arms twined around Ian’s neck and clutched at him, and the other ghosted over his chest to settle on his side, gripping his shirt and tugging it up.

 

                They parted just long enough to get Ian’s shirt off and then Mickey lurched forward and latched onto the side of Ian’s neck. Ian could feel the bruise blossoming to the surface under Mickey’s mouth but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Mickey pulled off with a wet sound and gazed at Ian with hooded eyes and flushed cheeks; damn-near a man possessed. He eyed Ian’s mouth for only a moment before he kissed it again, pulling the redhead’s lower lip into his mouth and biting at it.

 

                Mickey had just started groping at Ian’s dick, palming him firmly through his pants when Mandy walked in. She froze in the doorway and clapped her hands over her mouth to cover her yelp. Nobody moved for a few seconds, Ian and Mickey connected by the mouth and Mickey’s hand paused on Ian’s dick mid-rub. Mandy broke it first bouncing on the balls of her feet and practically squealing. Both boys were confused as she broke into applause and when they moved to pull apart she shouted; “Nonono, come on, keep going!”

 

                Mickey’s eyes were wide as he stared at Ian and slumped back against the toilet. Ian expected him to get mad and yell or just straight up bolt. He was quiet like he never was and Ian was worried.

 

                Surprisingly, Ian was the first to pull away, letting his hands drop from where he held Mickey’s head. He got to his feet and made for the door and Mandy threw her hands up in defeat when he pushed past her on his way out of the bathroom.

 

                “What the fuck is wrong with you? You were so close!” she said, clearly exhausted by how they’d tiptoed around each other the whole trip and had yet to actually address their problems. She didn’t even need to see them all over each other to see the deep longing they each had for the other. This trip was meant to be the push together that they needed but they were dense morons, just making it awkward and unbearably sexually charged. She just wanted some kind of combustion, a break in the tightly drawn wire they were balancing on, and when she’d caught them making out she’d thought she had it.

 

                Ian knew Mandy just wanted them to be alright again, but she shouldn’t be pushing so hard. He couldn’t deal with her meddling right now, so he just said; “He’s fucking wasted. Make sure he gets to bed,” before he shoved his feet into his shoes and left.

 

                He came back to the hotel room about an hour and a half later and texted Mandy to let him in since he’d stormed out without grabbing a key. She looked exhausted and Ian felt bad for making her worry. He gave her a hug as he passed and murmured an apology, dropping a kiss to the side of her head.

 

                “He tried to follow you,” Mandy said as Ian dragged out the spare bedding from the closet to make himself a little bed on the floor. She sat on the edge of the bed next to where Debbie slept and looked guilty. “Like a drunk idiot he wanted to run after you. Just thought you should know that.”

 

                Ian didn’t respond and eventually Mandy crawled into the bed next to Debbie. He could still see the light from her phone and so he knew she wasn’t asleep but he didn’t want to talk to her any more about it anyways.

 

                As Ian settled down he could hear Mickey snoring from the floor on the other side of the bed. Somehow it felt like the valley between them was even wider than it had been before they had found Ian at the diner what felt like weeks ago. The sun was filtering through the hotel room curtains by the time Ian finally fell asleep and he was still no closer to coming to a conclusion about his tense relationship with Mickey.


	8. the last one except not because there's still an epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it, friends. this is the last chapter (aside from the epilogue, but it's not a plot thing, more of like aftermath type stuff like epilogues generally are) and it's also the first multichapter fic i've finished in this fandom! more notes at the end on some other stuff but for now, enjoy! :)

                The trip the next morning started later than usual, which all parties were thankful for. Mickey was hungover and stayed rolled up in his blanket tortilla until around noon with the exception of the times he stumbled around the bed and into the bathroom to puke. Ian would normally tease him for not handling his liquor and being a bitch but after the events of the night before his words caught in his throat before he got them out.

 

                The other three were just tired and hungry. A little before mid-day they left the room and went to get greasy breakfast sandwiches from a shitty coffee shop down the street from their hotel. They brought back food for Mickey but Mandy and Ian ended up splitting it between them since Mickey got one whiff of the bag and dropped it on the bed so he could go and dry heave.

 

                They left the hotel room a complete mess – bleach and hair dye and Mickey’s blood staining the bedding and the bathroom stinking of vomit. They skipped out on the late check-out fee and took off before anyone could charge them for the mess they’d made. Mandy volunteered to drive the entire way since Mickey was so fucked-up he could barely keep his eyes open or sit up straight.

 

                A couple hours outside of Chicago, Mandy pulled off the highway and into a gas station, declaring that she needed to piss. She went into the washroom on the side of the building and she had been gone about seven years without any sign of coming back when Mickey said; “fuck this” and got out to have a smoke. Debbie and Ian ditched and went into the convenience store to get some snacks, leaving Mickey leaning against the rear bumper of the car sucking down smoke.

 

                “Didn’t think you’d come back.”

 

                Mickey looked up when he heard this, nearly sucking the cigarette down his throat on his gasp. As it was he doubled over coughing and an unwelcome hand patted his back. He straightened up and pushed the guy away but he was firm and hard and didn’t budge. Since the guy wasn't going to move, he chose instead to back up closer to the garage. The gay mechanic from before smirked down at him. “Surprised you’re choking. From what I remember you haven’t got much of a gag reflex.”

 

                “Fuck me,” Mickey groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face.

 

                “Well, if you insist,” the guy purred. He laid a big hand on Mickey’s hip, pressing the smaller man's pelvis against the wall behind him.

 

                “Not on your life, asshole,” Mickey growled, shoving at the mechanic’s hand and attempting to storm past him. He stood with all the fortitude of a brick wall, pushing Mickey back against the building with his forearm. Mickey glared up at him. “Fuck off.”

 

                “No way,” the guy said, biting his lip and looking down the length of Mickey’s body. “You came back here for me. You _want_ me.”

 

                “No, I fucking didn’t, assface. I don’t know where the fuck you got that idea, but I’m just fucking passing through and I definitely didn’t want to see you,” Mickey spat, struggling. His struggles were like nothing to the other man.

 

                “You wanna play it that way? We can do it like that if that’s how you like it,” he husked, stooping down to kiss Mickey. “Lord knows I like ‘em feisty.”

 

                Mickey jerked away from the mechanic’s eager mouth, knocking his head off the wall behind him. He didn’t truly mind the pain because he’d do anything to get away from this guy. Groping and flirting was one thing but kissing was another. He didn’t do the kissing thing with anyone except Ian and even that seemed to be done and over with since Ian clearly didn’t want anything to do with him.

 

                “Seriously man, leave me alone,” Mickey warned.

 

                “I’m not gonna leave you alone,” the mechanic insisted, pressing impossibly closer to Mickey. His breath was hot against Mickey’s jaw and neck. “Not after you _texted me_ , told me you were coming back through and that you wanted to sit on my dick this time.”

 

                “I didn’t fucking text you!” Mickey shouted.

 

                The mechanic backed up and dug into his jeans pocket. He pulled out his phone and swiped his way to a text conversation and then showed Mickey.

 

                Mickey squinted at the conversation labelled with his name and read through the texts quickly. There were only a few and they only started the day before, mentioning they he was going to stop at the garage early evening that day and that he did, indeed, aspire to sit on the mechanic’s dick. Mickey pursed his lips, confused, until he looked at the number and saw that it wasn’t his. Still, he recognized it because it was his fucking sister’s.

 

                “That wasn’t me,” Mickey told the guy. “That was my fucking sister being a meddling bitch like usual.”

 

                “Oh,” the guy said, frowning at his phone and slipping it back into his pocket. “But you still wanna fuck, right?”

 

                “...have you not been fucking listening?” Mickey sighed. “Look, it was a fucking miscommunication. Go back to being a grease monkey and I’ll get back on the road and we can pretend it never happened.”

 

                “No,” the mechanic decided. “I’m a great fuck. And I want to fuck you, so you should let me.”

 

                “No fucking way,” Mickey argued, pushing at the mechanic again and trying to make a quick escape by ducking under his arm and taking off along the side of the building. He was cut short when the mechanic pressed him against the building again, harder this time. His entire body pressed against Mickey’s squirming one, his hard cock pressed against Mickey’s hip.

 

                “Feel that?” he breathed. Mickey tried not to. “That’s all for you. Big and hard and more than enough to satisfy a cockslut like you.”

 

                Mickey struggled and the mechanic probably mistook it for eager impatient need-to-get-that-dick-in-me-now squirming because he concluded his monologue with; “I’ll make you _scream_ , baby. Just come back into the garage and I can show you what you’ve been missing in your life.”

 

                “Seriously, fuck right off,” Mickey said and the mechanic just laughed and ground his stupid fucking penis against Mickey. Mickey reeled back as far as he could in the restricted space he had to punch the fucker out. Probably for the first time in his life Mickey really couldn’t handle himself in a fight. Aside from scuffles with his brothers and generally getting the shit kicked out of him by his father, he never let himself get overpowered. But this guy was huge and for all the piss and vinegar Mickey could be full of and all the hellfire he could spit he couldn’t handle this guy.

 

                The mechanic caught his fist before it could hit his jaw and held it, pulling back and forcing Mickey to turn around. He wrenched Mickey’s arm up against his back. Mickey’s cheek felt raw where it ground against the brick wall with every flex of the mechanic’s hips.

 

                After a moment of having the fucker’s gross hands all over him the guy pulled back and Mickey thought maybe he was coming to his senses and aborting this rapey plan of his. Mickey turned around to face him and give him a piece of his mind and maybe a black eye for good measure but froze at what he saw.

 

                Ian took the guy by his beefy shoulder and spun him around, using the momentum he got from that to take a swing at him. The hit struck the guy’s nose hard and with a sickening crunch and a gush of blood he stumbled back. Once he’d recovered from the initial impact he came at Ian again and Ian headbutted him in a move he probably picked up from Mickey, then once the guy was down he proceeded to kick his ribs in.

 

                “Get the fuck off of me!” Ian snarled when Mickey tried to drag him back from the pile of human waste curled up on the pavement.

 

                “Gallagher!” Mickey insisted, pulling at him again. After thoroughly breaking a couple of the guy’s ribs Ian finally let Mickey pull him away.

 

                “Never fucking do that to anyone again!” Ian called back, delivering one more boot to the mechanic’s side before he let Mickey lead him away. “It’s called rape, you fucking asshole! Hopefully the next guy you try it on doesn’t stop his boyfriend from fucking killing you!”

 

                They left the mechanic to sob in pain on the ground and Mickey dragged Ian around the side of the building before he let him go.

 

                “The fuck was that about?” Mickey snarled. “I don’t need you fighting my fucking battles.”

 

                “Yeah, you definitely had that one under control,” Ian said, rolling his eyes and pulling away from Mickey’s grasp. “And I could ask you the same question. How the fuck did he know you? He said you texted him?”

 

                “Just how long were you fuckin’ standing there before you clocked the guy?” Mickey asked, incredulous.

 

                “What can I say? I was intrigued,” Ian said then added with no small degree of bitterness, “We dumb faggots are big fans of petty gossip, y’know?”

 

                “Fuck off,” Mickey grumbled, getting out a smoke and lighting it. Ian took it straight from his lips and sucked the smoke down. Mickey snatched it back and smoked it aggressively.

 

                “So how do you know that guy? Why did he think you wanted to fuck him?” Ian was sheepish and he asked – he wanted to know but he didn’t want to seem too eager.

 

                “I sucked his dick to get our car repairs free,” Mickey answered. He felt his face heat and avoided meeting Ian’s eyes. “He thinks I want to fuck him because Mandy texted him pretending to be me. He gave me his number and I threw it away but I guess she saved it so she could be her usual fucking annoying meddling self.”

 

                Ian couldn’t help but crack a smile. “That is pretty typical Mandy.”

 

                “Don’t fuckin’ laugh. She played us for a couple of fucking fools,” Mickey groused, smoking grumpily. “She knew the guy would try to get on me even if I said no and she knew you would swing in and fucking deck the guy like gay Superman.”

 

                “Well it worked, didn’t it?”

 

                “She wants us to get together or some shit. Like you’d come in and save me and we’d both fucking forget everything that happened and fuck in the gas station bathroom or something,” Mickey scoffed. “Bullshit.”

 

                “What's stopping us from forgetting everything and getting together?” Ian asked.

 

                “I thought we were good when we talked the other day but you’re still hurt or whatever,” Mickey replied. “Like I’m still kinda pissed that you just took off but you’re the one stopping us now.”

 

                “Am not. You’ve been pissy and emotionally constipated this whole trip. I didn’t wanna say the wrong thing and get a punch in the teeth for my troubles,” Ian argued, eyeing Mickey suspiciously. “If anyone’s stopping us, it’s you.”

 

                “...well isn’t that convenient. You’re not mad at me after I spent the whole week avoiding you thinking you were mad,” Mickey grumbled. “And you were doing the same thing. We’re a fuckin’ rom-com.”

 

                “I called you my boyfriend,” Ian realized. “Without even thinking about it, I called you my boyfriend and you didn’t get mad about it.”

 

                “I’m not your boyfriend,” Mickey said.

 

                “You wanna be?” Ian asked.

 

                Mickey looked up from the ground under their feet just soon enough to see the earnest look on Ian’s face as he tugged the cigarette from Mickey’s lips. He knew what was coming and met Ian halfway, getting up on his toes and throwing an arm around his neck. They made out hard against the wall for a while, until Ian’s hand started pulling at the bottom of Mickey’s shirt, fingers skimming the downy dark hair on Mickey’s pelvis.

 

                “Bathroom,” Ian gasped, pressing kisses to Mickey’s mouth and jaw despite his words. Between the two of them they fumbled their way to the gas station bathroom and once they were inside Mickey kicked the door shut behind them.

 

                They were barely apart for the second it took for them to work together stripping Ian’s shirt off. Then Mickey was on Ian, mouth sucking and biting down his chest and leaving red teeth marks and rapidly-purpling hickeys in its wake.

 

                Ian only let Mickey mark him up for another moment before he pushed the older man away and backed him up against the wall. This time Mickey’s shirt was pulled off and tossed away in the corner and Ian wasted no time in getting his hands all over him. As if he was making up for the time they’d been apart, Ian ravished Mickey. He traced all of Mickey’s pale skin that he could reach, hungry and desperate.

 

                “Need you to get on me like yesterday,” Mickey gasped when Ian stopped stealing his breath. “C’mon, we can do it slow and fuckin’ vanilla some other time. Gotta have you now.”

 

                Ian breathlessly agreed, fumbling to get his pants undone. Mickey took over, yanking Ian’s jeans down over his hips while Ian went to work on his. Before his pants were lost forever Ian dug out his wallet and found a condom, then turned his attention back to Mickey. It was hard not to when he was rubbing firmly at Ian’s dick.

 

                Mickey turned around in Ian’s arms and braced himself up against the wall, pushing his hips back against Ian to encourage the redhead to get on with it. Ian took the bait eagerly, falling to his knees behind Mickey and kneading at his rear through his boxers. Mickey let out something embarrassingly close to a whimper and Ian obliged to the older boy’s urging.

 

                He tugged down Mickey’s boxers and bit into the flesh of one of his cheeks. He sucked and bit and left an impressive mark before he moved on, dragging his tongue over Mickey’s skin as he went. He held Mickey open with his thumbs and lapped firmly at his bared hole with his flat tongue.

 

                Mickey’s knees trembled and so Ian nudged his legs a little further apart and pressed in deeper. He pushed his tongue into Mickey to penetrate him as deeply as possible, loosening and wetting the tense muscle there. He pulled back to suck on his fingers and get them slick before he dove back in, licking around his digits where they breached Mickey.

 

                Ian pulled back when Mickey cursed at him and pleaded breathily to him. He promised he was ready, but Ian kept fucking him with his fingers to be certain. It had been months since Mickey’s wedding and he didn’t want to be presumptuous in thinking that Mickey hadn’t been with a man since but he didn’t want to hurt him. That and the idea of Mickey with another man made him feel sick. Even when they fucked every day Ian still liked to stretch Mickey out, so he took extra care now.

 

He also loved seeing Mickey strung out like this, of course. Fingering Mickey was one of Ian’s favourite things to do. He loved making Mickey come on just his fingers, then fucking his oversensitive body into boneless incoherence with his cock. He groaned at the punch of arousal he felt when he thought about that and finished up preparing Mickey, pulling his three fingers out and getting to his feet.

 

Ian got his dick out and pressed it vertically into the cleft of Mickey’s ass. It brushed over the older boy’s hole and Mickey moaned, rocking back against Ian. Ian humped at Mickey’s ass as he tore open the condom and only stopped when he was rolling it on and then pressing into Mickey.

 

Like Ian assumed, Mickey hadn’t been fucked by anyone since Ian had fucked him right before his wedding. Occasionally, when he felt a particular kind of horny and ached desperately for Ian’s cock, he would finger himself but it was a paltry imitation of what he’d gotten used to getting. He couldn’t very well hide any fake dicks in the house since his dad and brothers ripped the place apart every other week looking for the last of the cash or drugs, so he settled for using his fingers when he had that special itch that he needed to scratch.

 

As a result, he was tight and hot and Ian had to go slow for both his sake and Mickey’s or this would be over much sooner than expected. He held his breath as he inched his hips closer to Mickey’s and when he finally bottomed out he let it out in a huffed laugh.

 

“Fuck. Don’t know how I went this long without you,” he breathed.

 

“Glad that being balls deep in me brought it all back to you,” Mickey snorted. “This is straight out of a shitty amnesia porno. Your magic dick brought it all back.”

 

“More like your ass which has mysterious healing powers,” Ian joked, giving the side of Mickey’s ass a spank.

 

“Less poetic porn dialogue and more fucking, Gallagher,” Mickey told him, pushing back against his dick and rocking them together, pulling moans out of both of them.

 

Ian dropped his mouth down to bit and suck at Mickey’s shoulder and puff out humid breaths down the side of his neck. He found that he was missing _something_ and he tried to kiss Mickey over his shoulder since fuck yes, kissing, why weren’t they doing more of that? Kissing Mickey like this was not quite satisfying Ian and it gave Mickey too many opportunities to hide so Ian changed shit up.

 

                Mickey started to bitch and complain when Ian pulled out but stammered when Ian grabbed him by the arm and dragged him over to the sink. He yelped and protested when Ian stopped in front of it and hauled him up onto the counter. His complaints turned into something else entirely when Ian lifted his legs and sank back into him.

 

                Getting hefted onto the sink had jostled Mickey and made him smack his head back against the mirror. Ian started fucking him again and with every thrust into Mickey it happened again and he grappled at the edge of the counter for support, hitting his elbow on one of the faucets. He sat forward as far as he could and clung to Ian’s shoulders and everything was better. _Much_ better, since sitting up and being this close meant his dick was rubbed between their stomachs with each push.

 

                Ian kissed him with the same roughness that he fucked him. He bit at Mickey’s lips and sucked on his tongue, ravaging his mouth. When he decided to stop muffling Mickey’s noises with his mouth, he descended on the pale perfect skin of his neck instead. He scattered Mickey with hickeys and made sure no one (especially that fucking mechanic) would doubt that Mickey belonged to someone, and if Ian had any say in it he’d be by Mickey’s side so everyone would know it was him.

 

                Mickey clawed at Ian’s shoulders desperately and hitched himself higher on Ian’s hips so he could meet Ian’s thrusts with a roll of his hips and push the redhead’s cock in him deeper. It soon got to the point where they weren’t even using the counter anymore aside from Ian occasionally leaning their weight on it.

 

                Tired of carrying Mickey’s weight, Ian held Mickey tightly against his chest and lifted him off the counter completely. Mickey clung to Ian with both his arms and legs, holding on tight as Ian stepped backwards carefully until they were closer to the center of the room. Mickey couldn’t help but gasp as each staggering step Ian took bounced him on Ian’s erection and forced him down on it.

 

                Ian got to his knees as carefully as possible and laid Mickey out on the floor. He shivered at the cold tile against his back but he didn’t say a word, too desperate to have Ian pounding into him again. Ian sat up straight and yanked Mickey’s pelvis closer to him, using one hand to line his dick back up and pushing back inside Mickey.

 

                His big hands held Mickey’s hips, long fingers nearly spanning the width of his waist. To his surprise Mickey was the one to reach for him, pulling on his bicep until he leaned down and then wrapping an arm around his neck. He kissed Ian hard while they fucked like their lives depended on it and before long Ian stayed leaned over Mickey. One hand braced him over Mickey’s body on the floor by his shoulder and the other went down and took hold of Mickey’s cock. It was dripping precome and red with neglect and it only took a couple more thrusts against his prostate before Mickey was spilling his seed over Ian’s fingers.

 

                Ian came a half-dozen erratic pumps of his hips later, face leaned against the side of Mickey’s and panting raggedly against his cheek. After he was done coming his shaky limbs overtook him and he collapsed on top of Mickey.

 

                “Oh, shit,” Mickey gasped. “Get off me, you giant ginger fuck.”

 

                “Nah,” Ian said, sitting up on his elbow and pressing kisses to Mickey’s chin. “Not gonna get off you ever. You let me call you my boyfriend so you’re never getting rid of me now.”

 

                “Gonna kick your fuckin’ ass, soon as I can walk, Gallagher,” Mickey growled but Ian just scoffed at his threat.

 

                “Couldn’t kick my ass if you tried. I was in the army, remember? Or did you not notice how jacked I am?” Ian teased. As if Mickey hadn’t noticed, Ian sat back and flexed a bicep for him.

 

                “Yeah, Mandy wouldn’t let me forget,” Mickey said, eyeing Ian’s bulging muscles with equal parts jealousy and intrigue.

 

                As if she’d been lurking outside the bathroom with her ear pressed against the door (not unlikely), Mandy rapped at the door.

 

                “Hurry up and put your clothes on! That mechanic guy got up and I think he’s gonna call the cops! We gotta fucking go!”

 

                That got the boys moving, albeit reluctantly. They got dressed as quickly as possible and stumbled out of the washroom. Mandy looked smug and fist-bumped Ian as he walked past her. Mickey glared at his dumb ginger something-or-another until Mandy smacked her brother's ass and then he turned it on her with a barrage of insults and an attempted titty-twister. If he hadn’t been deliciously sore thanks to that life-affirming fuck, he would have chased her. Instead, he let Ian take his hand and pull him into the back seat of the car with him.

 

                Debbie looked at them curiously over the back of the passenger seat and Ian just grinned at her, settling in for the ride home. Mickey probably would have flipped her off but he was too busy fucking up Mandy’s hair and almost putting them in the ditch since she had started driving by then.

 

                The car kicked up gravel and dust as they tore out of the parking lot. They were driving back towards less-than-great times but Ian found that nothing could dim his mood. When anyone asked, Mickey would tell them that all his hickeys were from some girl he’d picked up while on the road, and he’d have to keep playing house with Svetlana and the poor kid who came out of her. Debbie still had to figure out what to do about Matty and her pesky virginity and his reluctance to take it off her. Mandy still had to live with her abusers and do her best not to get on the bad side of either of them. Ian had to endure life at home and the unnerving mood swings he’d been experiencing lately and probably a whole pile of other things that had happened since he’d run away.

 

                All of it seemed much less impossible when he was leaned up against the boy he loved; whose brains he’d just fucked out, who’d chased after him like some bitch, who hadn’t stopped holding his hand after they’d settled down in the car. When Ian leaned closer to kiss Mickey he only panicked for a second before he renewed his conviction and closed the gap.

 

                Mandy nearly went off the road as she fumbled to get at her phone so Debbie could take a picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnd that's it. the epilogue might be a while since school and other fics are happening, but i'll try not to leave it more than a couple of weeks. i hope you enjoyed it and i hope the ending wasn't too anticlimactic.  
> i'd like to thank my friend/roommate/beta [kate](http://metaphoricallytheworst.tumblr.com/) who looked over the chapters for me and sent edits which are usually pretty alright. also [tanya](http://magneticdice.tumblr.com/), who is always supportive and helpful when it comes to writing fics and just a really good friend in general.  
> annnnd i'd also like to thank everyone who read/kudos'd/commented on this and offered their support. i know the fic isn't a really long one and took me a really long time to write but i just never write multichap fics so this is a big thing for me  
> gonna cut this bawling session short and just give a big thanks to everyone and look forward to the epilogue in the (hopefully) not too distant future!  
> :D :D :D
> 
> also one more shameless (lol) plug for [my blog](http://likingwhatilikedontmakemeahohoho.tumblr.com/) \- i take prompts! (should be noted that during every other time of the year besides the holidays, it's [here](http://likingwhatilikedontmakemeabitch.tumblr.com/). can't resist the holiday url lol)


	9. Epilogue

                It had been a week since Ian had properly moved in; since Terry had been put away again. Hopefully for good. If everything worked out, he’d get shanked in prison and then meet a painful end due to the resulting infection. While they planned their plan and put it together they harboured Ian like a fugitive in the apartment upstairs from the Alibi. Mickey spent most of his nights there with his boyfriend and no one was any the wiser.

 

                They successfully put Terry away and moved on without hesitation. Svetlana complained about it a first but even she could admit that life was better without Terry around, and she fell in to life with Ian, Mickey, and Mandy in their shitty new apartment seamlessly. Mickey and Kev went into business together and opened up their rub n’ tug, Svetlana had her baby and named him after her father, and Mickey came out to Ian’s family and the people at the bar. Despite his anxiety about it, no-one cared, and aside from the predictable gay jokes from the guys, everything went on like normal. The only thing that changed was Mickey; having broken the shackles his father had him locked up in, he was then free to be with Ian.

 

-

 

                Ian woke up horny – not really something unusual for him but it happened a lot more now that he woke up every morning in bed beside Mickey. The best thing about it was that Ian could do whatever he wanted about it. Now that Mickey was out he was a lot more loose and happy and just loved all the attention Ian gave him. It was like he was letting go of all the restraint he had held on to so desperately in the first couple years they’d spent hooking up, eager to make up for all the affection and love he wouldn’t let Ian give him then.

 

                Mickey groaned lowly as he woke up to Ian pressing in behind him and kissing at his neck. He responded perfectly, wiggling his ass back again Ian’s hard-on before he was even fully awake.

 

                Ian flicked his tongue against the shell of Mickey’s ear and bit at the lobe, wrapping one of his arms underneath Mickey’s body and across his torso, locking him there against Ian’s chest when he squirmed. Ian laughed and his breath huffed out against Mickey’s ear, making the older boy shudder.

 

                “Mm, good morning,” Mickey rumbled, pushing back against Ian’s pyjama’d dick. His voice was piqued with interest and he bit down on his lip when Ian got his other arm between them and grabbed a handful of his clothed ass, groping him roughly.

 

                “Wanna fuck?” Ian asked, voice deep and breath humid on Mickey’s skin.

 

                “I’ll kick your ass if you don’t get on me,” Mickey told him. He grinned and sat up a bit, leaning over Mickey and kissing him hard. Mickey tried to roll over and get properly underneath Ian but the redhead held him tight against his chest and kept him on his side.

 

                “Gonna fuck you like this,” Ian decided, mouthing at his jaw and down his neck. “Then I can touch you all over while you’re squirming on my dick.”

 

                “That gonna happen this week, or what?” Mickey asked and Ian pressed one more kiss to his cheek before he leaned past Mickey to grab their mostly-empty bottle of lube and a condom from their dwindling pack.

 

                Before long (though never soon enough for Mickey), Ian had his boyfriend stretched and pushed his latex-covered cock into him. Mickey buried his face in the pillow to keep his volume down but Ian yanked him back out of it. Mickey strained to lean back and kiss Ian, muffling their noises.

 

                Even with Mickey swallowing his moans, Ian still managed to be loud as fuck. He pumped his hips roughly against Mickey’s ass, which was great, but the noises pouring out of him would put an end to this quick.

 

                “Keep it down, Gallagher. This ain’t a fuckin’ porno,” Mickey hissed. He reached a hand back and it found its way into Ian’s hair, fingers tangling up in the orange locks like they usually did. “Gonna wake up my kid.”

 

                “Sorry. You’re just so hot,” Ian groaned into Mickey’s neck by way of explanation. “You make me want to scream.”

 

                “Yeah, well, _don’t_ ,” Mickey told him, though the warning lost some of its urgency when it came out of the tail end of a breathy moan as Ian grazed the fun button inside him.

 

                Mickey blamed Ian for the wailing cries they heard from the room next to them then.

 

                “He’ll calm himself down,” Ian groaned in Mickey’s ear, still fucking Mickey and holding him tight against his chest.

 

                “What if he’s hungry or something?” Mickey asked, trying to pull away unsuccessfully. He choked on a moan as Ian slammed into him all the harder. “Svetlana’s gone to her appointment and you know Mandy won’t fucking do it.”

 

                “He’ll survive until we finish,” Ian mumbled, kissing at Mickey’s neck. “Are you close? Jerk yourself off.”

 

                Ian kept on humping away and Mickey eventually caved and wrapped his fingers around his cock, tugging at himself in time with Ian. Just as Mickey was really getting back into it his mood was completely shattered when someone pounded on the door to their room. Mickey started and would probably have jumped about a mile in surprise if Ian hadn’t been holding him so tightly. Ian groaned and buried his nose in Mickey’s hair, hips stuttering as Mickey’s body tensed around him.

 

                “Put your fucking dicks away and take care of your kid!” Mandy shouted. “Your dying moose noises woke him up, so you can get up and fucking deal with him!”

 

                Mickey yelled some profanity or another at her but resigned himself to having to get up and placate his son. Ian was reluctant to let Mickey go but eventually he did, sulking.

 

                “To be continued,” Mickey promised, sitting up and tugging his boxers back up. He reached back and gave Ian’s dick a final tug since he looked so unhappy about being interrupted. “Don’t look so fuckin’ down. I’m sure Yev’ll let his dads get some once he’s asleep again.”

 

 

                “You better go and see what he wants,” Ian said, watching Mickey pull on a t-shirt.

 

                Mickey rolled his eyes. Ian could be so dramatic lately. He climbed back on the bed and pushed Ian over onto his back, holding him down against the bed. Ian looked up at him and Mickey cocked an eyebrow.

 

                “I’ll be quick,” Mickey said. He reached down and stroked Ian’s erection a couple of times, enjoying the groan Ian let out. “This better still be hard when I come back, ‘cause I’ve got plans for it.”

 

                Ian pulled him down for a kiss and he had to be coerced into letting his boyfriend go. Mickey let go of Ian’s dick and climbed off the bed, giving Ian one more scorching look before he left Ian to tend to his baby.

 

-

 

                Yev blinked big blue eyes up at Mickey when he stepped up to his crib in the spare room they used as the nursery/laundry room in their shitty little apartment. He’d fallen silent after Mandy stopped yelling (funny how that worked out) but Mickey figured he should still check up on him so he and Ian didn’t get interrupted for nothing.

 

                “What’s the happs, little man?” Mickey asked as he lifted his son out of his crib. He held him high on his chest, propped against his shoulder, and checked his diaper. “Alright, I guess I can’t blame you for crying. That’s pretty fucking gross.”

 

                Yev gurgled at him.

 

                “You’re right. We’ll watch some TV and then go back to bed,” Mickey told him. He kept talking to his baby as he changed his diaper, tossing the dirty diaper in the garbage in the kitchen as he carried his fresh-smelling powdery baby out to the living room.

 

                Mickey went to heat up a bottle and sit down with Yev on the couch but once the baby was clean and warm in Mickey’s arms he found a cozy spot against Mickey’s neck and started to doze off again.

 

                When Mickey tried to lay him down in the crib again he fussed and stirred and Mickey shushed him and cooed at him, letting him suck and gum at his index finger until he fell asleep.

 

-

 

                Ian was asleep when Mickey got back to him, even though Mickey had only been gone half an hour at the most. The redhead was just how Mickey had left him, aside from the fact that he’d pulled his soft fleece pyjama pants back on. He snored softly and Mickey watched him for a moment before he crawled into bed with him.

 

                He settled beside Ian, nudging at him until he rolled over onto his side. Then Mickey scooted in close behind him, spooning him and warming him in his embrace.

 

                Ian mumbled something and Mickey wrapped an arm around him. Unconsciously, Ian’s hand found his and twined their fingers together. The last thing Mickey thought before he fell asleep was that here, with his boyfriend and his sister and his wife and his baby in their shitty little apartment in another shitty neighbourhood on the South Side, was somewhere where he found he could really love his life a lot. He was infinitely glad that Mandy had convinced him to go on the road trip those months ago, even if she was a huge fucking bitch who interrupted awesome sex all the fucking time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sobbing since this is officially done now
> 
> i hope everyone enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it, and if you ever wanna hit me up with a prompt, my blog is [here](http://likingwhatilikedontmakemeabitch.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading <3


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